The Rose Within: (Improvisation 03 12 2005)
Rose of resentment within
my hour of flower
in the Lord’s rest to make good
energy of love my winter’s sleep
the petal buds to rose within
my soul with which to keep
like candle lights my face
behind the eyes
not the solitary me
but my rose and I encountered there
indulge them both to speak
the rose resents the hour of flower
the energy of love in that winter’s sleep
I see hidden by the rose lines your face
behind your eye reddened in self respect
nearby the thicket beauty opens out
its energy there before me in greenhouses
knows no hatred source
stands with me to bid farewell
at temple doors I let my spirit sprout
we hunger not for walls but for the rose
within the rose of resentment
my hour of flower.
poem by Lee B. Mack
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Related quotes
Prose to a Rose
Such A flower is the rose
Its colour bursting red
Such a flower if the rose
The flower of passion the poets often said
I could gaze upon its beauty
And not lift thine eyes
And when it closes its petals to go to sleep
A tear of sadness rises in my eyes
Such a flower is the rose
For it reminds me of you my dear
When ever I gaze upon a rose
It makes me wish you were here
Its petals are soft as thy skin
The colour like your lips
Its fragrance is sweet and pure
Like the flavor of your kiss
Such a flower is the rose it beauty
Has been endless through out time
And when ever I see a rose be reassured my love
You are for ever on my mind
poem by John A. Hancock
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Rose For A Rose
A rose for a rose
That is all that I can say,
As I present, the flower to you.
You can look upon its beauty
As I have looked upon yours,
Now you know the turmoil I go through.
As the beauty of the rose,
I thought it second to none,
Until that day that we met.
Now to me the rose is just a flower,
And its aroma is but a scent,
And raindrops, are tears I have wept.
A rose for a rose,
A masterpiece for the painter,
That is what, I am giving you.
You may gaze upon this flower
You can close your eyes and wish
And now the rose is wishing upon you.
Your skin is that of silk
Your beauty is that of mine eyes,
And your soul is that of the free wind.
So now I present you the rose,
As a man presents GOD his soul,
And know you’ll know where I have been.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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
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A Rose Intoxication!
Queen of flowers rose is always a fascination!
Rose is symbol of passionate love cheers mood!
Rose lady gives great pride to be with anywhere!
Special respect to rose never changes anywhere;
Red rose, pink rose and even blue rose are there
Occupying a pride of place none can have ever!
Bouquet of rose flowers elates anyone to dizziness!
A special gift indeed rose flowers makes to all!
A single rose is enough to make one grand to look
Instead of a big cluster of flowers of jasmine or lily!
Scent of rose remains fresh in mind wherever one is;
Such a unique flower rose how can anyone ignore
Whether it is in the garden or lies on a wayward side!
Now after seeing rose and read on rose I am intoxicated..!
poem by Ramesh T A
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What A Rose Can Say
A rose can say I love you and want you to be mine,
A rose can say I thank you for being so very kind,
A rose can say congratulations, whatever the occasion may be,
A rose can say I miss you and wish you were here with me,
A rose can say I'm sorry if I've hurt you in any way,
A rose can say get well soon, May God bless you today,
A rose can say I wish you happiness, and the best for you each day.
A rose can say farewel when someone goes away,
A rose can say hello, I'm thinking of you today,
There's just so many wonderful things that a rose can say,
A rose can say goodbye when a love one is laid to rest,
No matter what there is to say, a rose can say it best.
poem by Margie Driver
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A Blue Rose!
Genetically modified flower blue rose is unique!
Rose colour gives hope of future by its very look;
Red rose is unique among flowers as it is queen
In the flower world nobody can deny having it!
Yellow rose shines bright in the long green garden
Full of many trees and other flower plants broad!
Pink rose flowers are many everywhere as border
Mainly in the botanical garden of hill stations here!
Blue rose, a new addition in the flower kingdom
Among lavender, blue bells and rare kurinjis of
Light blue, violet and ink blue colours everywhere
Stands majestic and having healing touch to all!
Rose is rose by whatever name it is called and also
Rose is rose by whatever colour it is produced ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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One Rose
one rose for the day i met you
one rose for ever i loved you
50 roses today.you would be 50
i am 51 a rose is a simbol of love
compasion and most of all beauty
the most beautiful flower ever
but it couldent compare to my love for you
your eyes are as blue
as the sea.your cheeks tan from
the summers glow.the sight of you make my
face go red.you are gone but you will
never be forgotten my love for you
grows every day one rose at a time
poem by Sandra Geisell
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Petals of a Red Rose
A Red rose is a harmonious flower,
Symbolising love, passion and devotion.
As many numbered red roses are,
There only needs to be one to say it all.
When you hand someone a red rose,
You tell them that you love them.
A red rose cannot be itself,
What truely makes them so important,
Is not the colour or the number of them,
But the petals itself.
The petals hold everything in place,
Encouraging the flower to be more graceful,
Giving hope and love,
To what we would normally think is plain.
A red rose is such an intricate design,
Just like us, your daughters,
We are your red rose,
We are capable of living on our own,
But like a red rose we need that one special bit,
To encourage us, believe in us and love us,
Which is why we say,
You are the petals of the red rose.
poem by Music Galore
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Just One Rose...
that's a homework i need you to tell me if i should hand it to the teacher or not...(:
just one rose, a pretty rose...
just one rose for me with no coze...
just one rose pure and true...
just one rose for me is all i can do...
just one rose somewhere out there...
just one rose for me to care...
just one rose when dark days prevail...
just one rose when people only use petrail...
just one rose and all the time...
just one rosefor me is a crime...
poem by rose of death XxX
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Buy Me A Rose
For the touching love of a rose
a rose becomes love
a tangible love
a sweetly scented love
wonderful eye captivating love.
I love the rose in thorn
extreme beauty within
and my heart desireth one
for the love of a rose.
I'll bottle it on my table
beside my poem writing pad
away from the hatred of the sun
and disguise of broisers.
I need one
just have me one rose flower
the tangible love.
poem by Fate Mcfate
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I Bought You A Rose
the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night
it keeps me awake
through the night
the night in which
i think of you
because
i hold the rose
in my hand
through the night
the rose that i bought you
in the afternoon
the rose that you did not want
in the evening
the evening when i took you out
and you said
you did not want the rose
you wanted it to be over between us
you said it was no use
a rose was no use
a rose could not
bring us together
a rose could not
keep us together
a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
you said
i should keep my rose
you said
you said it when i offered you the rose
you said it again
when the evening was over
when we left each other
and so i took it home
the rose that i bought you
i thought of you
on my way home
with the rose
i thought of how it had been
between us
i thought of how it might have been
between us
i tried to forget
how it had been
between us
i tried to forget
how it might have been
between us
but the rose reminded me
how it was
between us
i took the rose with me
when i got into bed
when i tried to sleep
it had been deep red
but it seemed to me
now it was not so deep red
as it had been before
each time i woke
i looked at the rose
each time it seemed
not so deep red
as it had been before
each time it seemed
a little more faded
a little more dry
a little less red
a little less fresh
each time
its scent also
had been beautiful
like you were beautiful
its scent also seemed to me
a little more faded
a little less fresh
a little less beautiful
a little less able
to evoke you
a little less able
to keep you
to keep your memory
alive
alive in the night
even when i turned on the light
to look again
at the rose
to inhale again
the perfume of the rose
i saw it fading
i saw you fading
i saw your beauty fading
through the night
and i saw that you were right
about the rose
that a rose is just a rose
that a rose could not
bring us together
that a rose could not
keep us together
that a rose by any other name
is still just a rose
that you by any other name
are still just a rose
fading through the night
i cannot keep you
for i cannot keep you
from fading through the night
like this rose i bought you
like any rose
like anything i ever bought you
the problem is
the grandfather clock
in the adjacent room
it chimes
on the hour
every hour
through the night
poem by Rory Hudson
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Red, Red Rose
Red, red rose, she blew her breath
Fingers, it’s stem she caressed
Then she closed her eyes and breathed the fragrance in
Tell me red, red rose, where does love end
She placed the rose, gently against her lips
She plucked a single petal, with finger tips
And as the wind caught and carried up high
Tell me red, red rose, can love it fly
Slowly one by one, each petal fell
Upon the last in her eye, a tear it swelled
And then she sighed as she asked to her self
Tell me red, red rose, is for love, is this what’s left
Red, red rose, red, red rose
You stand for love you should know
Should we hold on tight with all our might
Must one day we let go
Red, red rose, red, red rose
Your petals fly in the breeze
If I let go, red, red rose
What becomes of me.
Copyright 2006 Bill Simmons
aka BillWilliamStar
[email protected]
poem by Bill Simmons
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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
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A Dozen Roses
A dozen roses I give to you my friend
A gift that seems so small
But they represent so much
Our friendship most of all.
A rose for the friendship
A rose for the touch
A rose for the trust we share
Our sharing means so much.
A rose for the kindness
And the deep caring you show
A rose for the comfort given
When I've been feeling low.
A rose for the laughter
How it makes your eyes shine
A rose for the dreams we share
It's amazing how they intertwine.
A rose for the deep respect
You give to me with ease
A rose for the love we feel
And how you wish to please.
A rose for your compassion
That has helped me in so many ways
A rose for bringing me sunshine
That has brightened all my days.
The last rose is the best
For it stands so proud and tall
This rose represents you
My best friend of all.
poem by Joyce Regna
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A Dying Rose
A Dying Rose
By: Adam M. Snow
Helplessly I wait upon the hour, drawing closely;
I, myself ponder tremendously.
Do my eyes deceive what once was a rose?
And by that, does it be a rose no longer?
I speak to be heard once more,
and once more to be heard by that rose.
But I cannot see that of the beauty of her face,
yet her eyes glances swiftly beyond my essence.
Could it be? Oh could it be,
that my essence is enough to guide thee?
I am but one in groups of many,
she sees not I but one in twenty.
She is that of a dying rose,
shedding that of blackened petals;
a black rose, I say so myself.
Doomed by what the world gave to thee;
a single tear drop, which falls and taints the ground.
And by that passing hour; she, herself would wilt away.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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One Rose
Rose
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each bruise
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you cheated
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you forced me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each pointless arguement
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each crime
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
One for each time you try to end me
One Rose
Two Rose
Twelve Rose
How many more can I live through?
poem by Lexie Night
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A name...
A rose by any other name
is not a rose.
Does it have petals,
or instead many toes?
Does it speak softly;
or shudder in the wind?
Does it grow listlessly,
or lament that it has sinned?
A rose, by any other name
is still no rose
unless these differences are tame:
that a name shapes a flower,
and a flower shapes a name!
poem by Poet Dragon
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Pink Flowers.
Do not text me or think otherwise
I am just picking flowers from my garden.
Last evening I picked a red rose but
Wow! It proved to be too red for my date
Today I visited the same garden
The only flower I found was a white rose.
Where is my favourite pink rose?
This morning I cycled to the market
Sure, to buy my date a pink rose
But the only roses there were yellow and purple.
Tried to enquire where I could get one
But no one knows where to find.
Went to my flower vendor but nowhere to find
Where will I get my pink rose for my date?
Tomorrow, I'll travel far and wide
Only to get this precious pink flower
And if I succeed, my date will be happy
And my heart will find a solace rest
Amidst the residue of love petals
Just with the pink flower petals.
Where will I get my Pink rose flower?
(Dedicated for my pink flower date)
poem by Aron Lelei
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Rose’s rose rose
Rose’s rose rose
In the light of the day
While the wind blows
Round its flowers of the lightest rosé.
Rose’s rose rose
In a way Rose may
When she grows
As her rose
Shows
How it grows
And by the end of the day
When her rose’s flowers’d close
And its head would sway
In the wind, Rose would say:
“My rose, as you rose
In the light of the day
Did you notice those,
The sounds of your stay?
Not only those of the day,
But, too, the ones of the dark, rose,
The ones of the dark and the moon in its pose.
Did you notice those, rose?
Did you notice those? ”
And the rose would know
What Rose would want to say
And it would sleep
With its flowers of the lightest rosé.
A Black Rose
A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
A sign, a symbol,
An insignia of loss,
It’s the Flower of Darkness,
Lying in wait on this cold winter night,
It represents the beauty of despair,
The grace of defeat,
The feelings we all find hard to bear,
The millions of people that have all loved and lost,
All behind this flower that holds us aloft,
Within its petals we drown our grief,
With its stem we clutch to what’s left of life,
Within its thorns we spite those who have set us so
And within this dark flower we find our peace,
The power to let go and leave the loved lie,
So with this flower we sign our hearts,
We accept our everlasting love,
And move on,
A Black Rose,
Glistening in the rain,
Ill forever love you,
Ill never lose hope,
But until you come back,
Here’s a Black Rose,
For my love…
- The Black Rose
poem by Andrew Rose
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