Time of Roses
It was not in the Winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses—
We pluck'd them as we pass'd!
That churlish season never frown'd
On early lovers yet:
O no—the world was newly crown'd
With flowers when first we met!
'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
But still you held me fast;
It was the time of roses—
We pluck'd them as we pass'd!
poem by Thomas Hood

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It Was Not In The Winter
It was not in the Winter
Our loving lot was cast;
It was the Time of Roses,—
We plucked them as we passed!
That churlish season never frown'd
On early lovers yet:—
Oh, no—the world was newly crown'd
With flowers when first we met!
'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
But still you held me fast;
It was the Time of Roses,—
We pluck'd them as we pass'd.—
What else could peer thy glowing cheek,
That tears began to stud?
And when I ask'd the like of Love,
You snatched a damask bud;
And oped it to the dainty core,
Still glowing to the last.—
It was the Time of Roses,—
We plucked them as we pass'd!
poem by Thomas Hood

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Wilted Petals
Lovers walk pass by
With bloody red roses
Gently held on one hand
Their lover's hand on the other
While I have none
Lovers sit as I walk pass by
With bloody red wine
Swirling towards their lips
Their raucous laughter
Mocking my lone figure
Time pass by
With the bloody red sun
I, alone, with nothing holding my hand
For you are far away
Only mutter my love to the sky
I can only stand by
With my bloody red heart
Among wilted petals
And wait for the stars
To accompany me on this cold night.
poem by Shogunoka Ledesma III

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To Everything There is a Season
To everything there is a season
A time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born
and a time to die
A time to plant
and a time to pluck what is planted
A time to kill
and a time to heal
A time to break down
and a time to build up
A time to cast away stones
and a time to gather stones
A time to embrace
and a time to refrain from embracing
A time to gain
and a time to lose
A time to keep
and a time to cast away
A time to tear
and a time to sew
A time to keep silence
and a time to speak
A time of love
and a time of hate
A time of war
and a time of peace
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.
Roses In Madrid
Roses, Senors, roses!
Love is subtly hid
In the fragrant roses,
Blown in gay Madrid.
Roses, Senors, roses!
Look, look, look, and see
Love hanging in the roses,
Like a golden bee!
Ha! ha! shake the roses--
Hold a palm below;
Shake him from the roses,
Catch the vagrant so!
High I toss the roses
From my brown palm up;
Like the wine that bubbles
From a golden cup.
Catch the roses, Senors,
Light on finger tips;
He who buys red roses,
Dreams of crimson lips!
Tinkle! my fresh roses,
With the rare dews wet;
Clink! my crisp, red roses,
Like a castanet!
Roses, Senors, roses,
Come, Hidalgo, buy!
Proudly wait my roses
For thy rose's eye
Be thy rose as stately
As a pacing deer;
Worthy are my roses
To burn behind her ear.
Ha I ha! I can see thee,
Where the fountains foam,
Twining my red roses
In her golden comb!
Roses, Donnas, roses,
None so fresh as mine,
Pluck'd at rose of morning
By our Lady's shrine.
Those that first I gather'd
Laid I at her feet,
That is why my roses
Still are fresh and sweet.
Roses, Donnas, roses!
Roses waxen fair!
Acolytes my roses,
Censing ladies' pray'r!
Roses, roses, roses!
Hear the tawny bull
Thund'ring in the circus--
Buy your arms full.
Roses by the dozen!
Roses by the score!
Pelt the victor with them--
Bull or Toreador!
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford

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The Petal Game
pick a flower
to play the petal game
pluck a petal
he loves me
pluck a petal
I don't love him
pluck a petal
he keeps getting closer
pluck a petal
I keep pushing him away
pluck a petal
he is always around me
pluck a petal
I hide away from him
pluck a petal
he is always protecting me
pluck a petal
I just punch him in the gut
pluck a petal
he never seems to get it
pluck a petal
I really hate his guts
pluck a petal
he just really bugs me
pluck a petal
I need a new flower now
pick a flower
to play the petal game
poem by Amber Lyn Charneski

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Song I
OH haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Yea, give the morning to the lark,
The nightingale its glimmering grove,
Give moonlight to the hungry dark,
But to man's heart give love!
Then haste while still the roses blow,
And pale and bright in heaven above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
Pluck, pluck the rose of love.
poem by Mathilde Blind

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Rose D'Amour
Oh haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Yea, give the morning to the lark,
The nightingale its glimmering grove,
Give moonlight to the hungry dark,
But to man's heart give love!
Then haste while still the roses blow,
And pale and bright in heaven above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
Pluck, pluck the rose of love.
poem by Mathilde Blind

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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

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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

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Welcome, Dear Heart, and a Most Kind Good-Morrow
Welcome, dear Heart, and a most kind good-morrow;
The day is gloomy, but our looks shall shine:—
Flowers I have none to give thee, but I borrow
Their sweetness in a verse to speak for thine.
Here are red roses, gather'd at thy cheeks,—
The white were all too happy to look white:
For love the rose, for faith the lily speaks;
It withers in false hands, but here 'tis bright!
Dost love sweet Hyacinth? Its scented leaf
Curls manifold,—all love's delights blow double:
'Tis said this flow'ret is inscribed with grief,—
But let that hint of a forgotten trouble.
I pluck'd the Primrose at night's dewy noon;
Like Hope, it show'd its blossoms in the night;—
'Twas, like Endymion, watching for the Moon!
And here are Sun-flowers, amorous of light!
These golden Buttercups are April's seal,—
The Daisy-stars her constellations be:
These grew so lowly, I was forced to kneel,
Therefore I pluck no Daisies but for thee!
Here's Daisies for the morn, Primrose for gloom
Pansies and Roses for the noontide hours:—
A wight once made a dial of their bloom,—
So may thy life be measured out by flowers!
poem by Thomas Hood

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The Holy Rosary (Roses to Mother Mary)
Roses that can never fade;
Roses white and red in shade;
Roses that are heaven-made;
Roses in Mary’s crown laid!
Roses from the hearts that pray;
Roses blossoming night, day;
Roses living all the way;
Roses fit for any Fay!
Roses that will always stay;
Roses brighter than sun’s ray;
Roses everlasting, Aye!
Roses that she can’t say, ’nay’!
The spiritual best weapon,
That brings favors from her son,
That serves to solve problems mundane,
And makes souls fit for life divine!
‘PRAYERS THAT YOU CAN SAY ALL LIFE
TO KEEP AWAY FROM EVERY STRIFE! ’
dedicated to the 'Holy Family Church Grotto' Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-12-10
poem by John Celes

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Solatium
Comes the broken flower -
Comes the cheated maid -
Though the tempest lower,
Rain and cloud will fade!
Take, O maid, these posies:
Though thy beauty rare
Shame the blushing roses,
They are passing fair!
Wear the flowers till they fade;
Happy be thy life, O maid!
O'er the season vernal,
Time may cast a shade;
Sunshine, if eternal,
Makes the roses fade:
Time may do his duty;
Let the thief alone -
Winter hath a beauty
That is all his own.
Fairest days are sun and shade:
Happy be thy life, O maid!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert

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Garden Of Roses
My garden of roses is dead
All the most beautiful flowers have wilted
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Like my love and my nurturing was nothing
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Nothing but dust in the wind is left
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Everything's gone and I feel so empty
And now the winter is here
poem by Triin Kann

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Roses Are Red (Jessica)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Honey is so sweet and so are you darling!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You've made my dreams come true!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have my brown eyes glued on YOU!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I feel like i have known you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are so FINE that you give me the BLUES!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Lord knows that im falling for you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I just want to Rock with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
These lips can't wait to be kissing you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I do anything to claim you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I bow down to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I've never met anyone as HOT as you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
never knew i would meet you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm going to bed would you like to come too!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I rather spend my precious time with you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You are beautiful as sparkling DIAMOND!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
You have me speechless everytime i talk to you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
May i have this dance with you (JESSICA)
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I have mentioned your name so many time i have lost count!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I dont want no-one if i cant have you. #PERIOD
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I want to give you everlasting Joy, Happiness, and especially LOVE!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
I'm the one who will make your dreams come true
Roses are red Violets are blue,
Chilli is hot and so are you!
Roses are red Violets are blue,
JESSICA ITA JAMES WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Roses are red Violets are blue,
THIS POEM WAS MADE FOR YOU.......
poem by Obi Onyenwe

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Roses
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May,
When blossoms and bird-song are rife;
Oh, joy for the season, and joy for the day,
That gave me the roses of life, of life,
That gave me the roses of life.
Oh, wind of the summer, sing loud in the night,
When flutters my heart like a dove;
One came from thy kingdom, thy realm of delight,
And gave me the roses of love, of love,
And gave me the roses of love.
Oh, wind of the winter, sigh low in thy grief,
I hear thy compassionate breath;
I wither, I fall, like the autumn-kissed leaf,
He gave me the roses of death, of death,
He gave me the roses of death.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Faded Love And Winter Roses
Key: e
(if you dont know e very well throw a capo on the 2nd fret and play it in d)
(e) faded love and winter roses (b7) always bloom in memo(e)ry
Faded love and winter roses (b7) yearning hearts that used to (e)be
(a)will they meet again tomorrow (e)where we parted yester(b7)day
(e)give me back the winter roses (b7)and the love you took a(e)way
(e)faded love and winter roses (b7)sprinkled with a lonely (e)tear
Faded love and winter roses (b7)still recall each yester(e)year
(a)will I always be a dreamer (e)dreaming of the used to (b7)be
(e)faded love and winter roses (b7)live and die in memo(e)ry
song performed by by Hank Williams

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flower
Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it
droop and drop into the dust.
I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of
pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am
aware, and the time of offering go by.
Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower
in thy service and pluck it while there is time.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore

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So Not Perfect
Just heard a song on the radio
a girl singing about a boy
who is not less than perfect.
Sweet.
Got me think'n bout
how I am
so not perfect.
Course none of us like
to have that truth pointed out.
Better to be wooed
with romantic gestures
and a sweet and caring smile.
Chocolate is good, too.
Some people are crazy early.
Not me.
Yeah, I know- gotta work on that.
For awhile now
it has been on my heart
to always take the time
to smell the roses.
Do you want to know a secret?
When I am alone
and I pass by flowers
on the street
or in the grocery store,
then I stop and smell the roses.
I made a decision that I never want to be
too busy to take time for that.
It is a beautiful joy of life
and one that I try to appreciate.
Too many people zip by life
and miss those little moments
that are the sweetest.
A little over a week ago
I was getting groceries one night.
I detoured to smell the many bouquets of flowers,
and honestly I was dodging that annoying guy
(the one always trying to sell me cable or something
every time I set foot in Wal-Mart) .
A young guy
about 18 or so
struck up a conversation with me
by the roses.
He spilled out his heart
about his break-up with his girl,
his dear love.
He selected the red roses
hoping to win her back.
Hoping she would forgive him.
Hoping he hadn't lost her for good.
The beautiful card
that he selected for her
and his story touched my heart.
Relationships,
like people,
are not perfect
and we all make mistakes.
When we are able to admit it
is when
we get the gold star.
poem by Julie A Smith

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Coloured Roses
As we stood solemnly
looking down at that deep hole
each of us tears held in our eyes.
We bowed our heads
and a prayer to say
when someone placed a bouquet
of coloured roses on the ground
before they buried you away.
A stranger whom we did not know
smiled and serenely said to us
that these flowers represent their life,
and what they gave to us.
Red roses for the blood
that pumped around
a kind and generous heart.
Yellow roses for the smile
that they gave us
whenever we were around.
Blue roses represent the colour of their eyes
that looked at us softly when they were alive
and for the feelings, we feel within our hearts today.
Orange roses represent the sunset
beyond where they have gone today
and where we hope to meet with them again someday.
White roses for the eternal light
we all must pass though one day
and the purity of spirit they wrap around us each day.
Purple roses for the mourning cloak
each of us wear at times like this.
Theses colours represent the rainbow
wrapped around each life.
Your loved one has not left you
but passed through to the next phase.
The stranger then looked around
smiled serenely again at all of us
then slowly faded away.
poem by David Harris

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