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Rose Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Rose

These Rose Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Rose. These are the best examples of Rose Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Ballad |

12 Red Roses

I picked one rose and cried a tear,
It reminded me of you when you once were near.
I picked another,and of course it was red,
Things that you said went through my head.

The third rose was stunning ,and stood so strong,
Put the three together,in the words of a song.
The fourth rose was shinning, you could see it from here,
Put the four together,and wish i were there.

The fifth rose was sad as it drooped a little,
So i moved it in closer, to the middle.
The six rose said i can help number five,
By teaching him how we all can survive.

The seventh rose had a long and thorny shaft,
It had to be cut , so it would last.
The eight rose smelled like the summer air,
They sell bunches of eight at the summer fair.

The ninth rose said hey, don't forget about me,
Just because you have alligeries and i make you sneeze.
The tenth rose was happy to go with the bunch,
He dident want to end up ,about to be crunched.

The eleventh rose snuggled into the crowd,
Saying hey look at me ,im strong and proud.
The twelveth rose came in at the top of the pick,
Saying im the greatest because i look so slick.

Now that i have all twelve together,
Im going to add in a bunch of feathers.
Send them to you on wings of a Dove,
So that you will always remember  that you are loved.

Details | Ballad |

I am that I am

My savior was born a man,
He came from heaven, but a man is what he became.
Ordinary, fallen, vulnerable, weak, and confused.
He became all of this and more,
For he knew that only in the form of a servant,
Could he save the lost, and set the captives free.
But there came a time,
I tell you, there came a time,
When he rose up and claimed his former self,
And knew his nature,
I am that I am, He said.
I am that I am.
I was born a boy.
Ordinary, fallen, vulnerable, weak, and confused.
Almost worthy of the condemnation that this world has shamed upon me and 
Almost worthy of the epistemological inferiority, that the world complexly imputes 
to me,
I was born a boy,
Full of rage and anger, when they called me “boy” out of their own confusion.
But I came to a man, who is a God, but was a man,
And said, “Lord transform me, my God, transform me into what you will for me to 
And he showed me pain.
And he showed me sorrow.
But there came a time,
When I rose up, and claimed the impossible,
To be a child and man simultaneously,
I was born a boy,
But I came to a man, who is a God, but was a man,
And said, “Lord transform me, my God, transform me into what you will for me to 
And he showed me pain.
And he showed me sorrow.
But there came a time,
When I rose up, and claimed the impossible,
To be a child and man simultaneously,
And now I can look American hypocrisy in the face, and say “God Bless You”
And now I can look klu Klux klan firemen in the eye and say I love you.
Black, beautiful, strong, fearless, and resolute to endure,
Black, beautiful, strong, fearless, and resolute to right this world’s wrong and still 
retain my childlike disposition.
I am a man, I tell you.
And that is more than enough!
For once I strived to rise above, but now I seek to rise in love.
For once I strived to get revenge, but now I seek that hatred end.
And men and boys and women to, would claim the light of victory.
Not because of me, I see, but because of a man, who was a God.
And became fallen, vulnerable, weak, and feeble,
As I felt in a time of trial,
Not because of me, I see, but because of a man, who claimed his former self 
and rose to set me free.
And now, I am true.
Not perfect but a man nonetheless.
I was born a boy,
But I reached to the sky, and said, “God help me”
And now, I AM THAT I AM, I AM MAN!

Details | Ballade |

A Woman Like a Rose

The rose bud is small and the smell is so sweet
 And no other flower in the garden quite so unique

When the petals unfold it makes a beautiful rose
and  the fragrance of that flower fills the air 

Take the thorns from  that beautiful rose
and the beauty can no longer to be found

When the morning dew falls softly on  the rose
it's like a  tear on a woman's face when she cries

 And when a woman's pride  is  taken away
 like the rose her beauty is faded and gone

So never make a woman cry and men be very aware
her beauty may be hidden but the thorn is still  there

Details | Ballad |

The Rebellion of '57

'''tis Power that rules men,not men-- When they but have misused That Power, to abduct their soul-- For It then stands abused.'' So at such time when Anguish With rage, had undone The bonds that with-held the blaze In hearts of everyone, To over-throw the unjust rule, There was an uprise; To win-over our Liberty, There was The Uprise...: A feeble Nation rose to fore, To fight the unjust Company, And India--She rose in uproar-- Indians rose to mutiny. With swords and shields, hearts of gold, A clan of Warriors rose, Against a mighty cannon-force, The Clan of Warriors rose. Here, wars were waged, There battles won, With valour-ridden thought; Then lives were lost in the field 'gainst the forces of distraught. The final picture was of Death-- Of the stabbed, the beaten and bruised, For against gun and mortar-bolt Sword and stick was used.....

Details | Ballad |

The Blue Rose

My true love asked me for my hand.
Before I answer, I demand
He first must bring a bright blue rose.
"I'll search the world for one of those,"
Was his reply and off he went.
Then  many weary months he spent
In searching for elusive blue.
I turned away each offered hue.
Heartlessly, I bade him go
To every flower and garden show.
"Come back with rose for which I pine,
I long to claim rare rose as mine."
His spirits sagged each time I said,
"I do not want a pink or red.
I'll only settle for a blue
If I'm to give my heart to you.
He answered, "Love, I've done my best,
The impossibility of the quest
Has weakened me unto my death.
I've sought blue rose with my last breath.
With these last words, my true love died.
For many days and nights I've cried.
Where it has come from, no one knows
But on his grave grows a blue rose.

For Blue Rose contest.  Placed first

Details | Ballad |

Language Stillest

Language Stillest

I gazed
I saw
The little rose petal
Red, violet, blue, pink, white
Colours hazed
Flying by the lip of the bridge

Put my palm 
to own it
Zoom! It shuns
just an inch away.
Follow it again
the millionth time
can’t hold it still.

The fragrance tells
The warmth! Belonging!
Warmth is
Language stillest
Unsopken but 
Wholly apprehended

Sweet rose be mine,
I pray.

(c) Copyright. All Rights Reserved. Moonga Nsamu. 2003

Details | Ballade |

Tahlia Rose, the fairy

Dedicated to my beautiful Granddaughter Tahlia Rose.

Tahlia Rose, The Fairy

Once upon a time in a world of fairies
No hatred in this land was ever seen
And all around were birds of many colours
And everything was peaceful and serene
Oh, the flowers in this place, you should have seen them
Or smelled their perfume oh, so very sweet 
For the God that lived up there in heaven
Had made each flower perfect and complete.

There lived within this land a lovely fairy
She lived within the rarest, wondrous Rose
And all around because of her great beauty
The whole of life it seemed to have that glow.
The animals of the land all came to see her
And the birds each time she passed would sing with joy
Yet Tahlia Rose {The name her folk did give her}
She yearned one day to find an elfin boy.

For she believed so deeply that her soul mate
Was there; she had to wait and let him come
Then one day this Elfin lad named fireball
He saw our Rose and she his mind did stun.
He danced his way to her as Elvin’s will do
And then she knew her soul mate, he was here
They danced together in the misty moonlight
That they did love each other was quite clear.

Well folk for miles around did come to see them
Between them they had beauty unsurpassed
None had ever seen love of such power
Betwixt this two the reservoir was vast.
And so the lovely pair they did get married
And everybody danced in wondrous bliss
You should have seen these little people dancing
It was a sight I’m glad I never missed.

19 July 2013 @ o400hrs

Details | Ballade |

Feelings in the early morn

Feelings in the early morn

Here be I amidst the flowers
Playing the poets role
As soft leaves dancing on the breeze
Lend magic to my soul
Sweet music plays on the stereo
As the birds give out sweet prayer
That fills the air with harmony
As joy is everywhere.

A rose of pink and yellow hues
Sends perfume out to me
As I sit here in my comfy chair
And listen endlessly
To that softest silence all around
That holds the many sounds
In this garden swathed  in bliss
Such solace I have found.

My working days all finished now
I watch the day go by
And melt within it peacefully
There’s just this morn and I
This silence, how it soothes my soul
And fills me with such power
Intoxicating me with sweetness
To bring my heart to flower.

Details | Ballad |


We made each other a promise
over chilled wine...
as we smiled
with an irresistible desire;
even the most beautiful words
can lose their meaning over time!

I should have been the perfect lover
with that unquenchable thirst for more,
only to be consumed by passion once:
not afraid to feel like a thirst rose
needing raindrops...waiting for rain
to bring life where there was none!

Being faithful and devoted to only one
is very hard with all the temptations around;
and it can be truly lovely and satisfying,
till something goes wrong!...
Then the wounded heart goes searching
for a different song,
with sweeter and more forgiving words,
to be heard by someone who imagined love
as free as the clouds up above!

I have slept alone tossing in cold sheets of pain,
dying to feel and touch your smooth skin...
remembering the gleams of moonlight
covering our naked bodies on each and long night!

I regret all the joy of sharing love so quickly, 
still thinking of that woman I truly miss...
enough for me to curse the darkness
growing inside and around me!
I am slowly fading into nothing
as if I never existed...
like a thirsty rose needing rain-drops,
soon to be buried into dust!

Details | Ballad |

Through rose colored glasses

Through rose colored glasses
I see your faults
Your lies
But I vowed it all 
When I came to your bed
Even if the thorns scratch
The rose still offers me 
Besides my pain
A sweet aroma
My love for you

©? Brenda V northeast     29 Dec. 2011