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Life Rose Poems | Life Poems About Rose

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

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Details | Personification | |

The Essence of Rose

In the twilight hours Out here on this ledge I am filled With the essence of Rose As a gentle breath stirs The fallen petals Strewn over That long and winding road Here on the brink Where so many have come Before me And simply let go I find myself wondering Why I am here Yet! I am afraid to know So I cling to this ledge Overcome with fear Knowing the end is near For there's no going back Once you are here for that moment In Time Disappeared So... I sit here Filled up With the essence of Rose Each petal A memory Etched forever On that road of life Paved with both Joy and misery Until the last petal falls Then I finally let go Here at the end of the road I, the last tear From the faded blue eye Of dear Old wild Rose Written: July 15, 2015 Author: Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada

Copyright © Elaine George

Details | Free verse | |

Winter's Rose - My Spirit

white frost streaks her hair
smooth ice-sculpture skin of youth
     stroked by cracks
            wrinkles that have weathered life
                 skin once firmly packed sags

in the mirror a figure she doesn’t recognize
    but she laughs
          budding spring beauty
               summer rose that danced through seemingly timeless evenings

restless rebellion came with fall
     withering, yearning

but winter, sweet winter
fills her heart with warm memories
     resignation, acceptance of a life well-lived
               a spirit that will never die

winter’s rose smiles, prepares for eternal life

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Free verse | |

Where Roses Never Die

I remember the first roses I received.
I was going on my first official date,
and my beau brought me a beautiful 
bouquet of red roses. At the time I was 
so embarrassed when I had to bring them 
into the house and put them in a vase 
with all my siblings grinning at me.

Our relationship lasted a little longer then 
the roses, but eventually they both died.

I remember the roses I picked out for
my wedding day. I insisted they be yellow 
because that happened to be my
favourite colour of roses at the time.
After the wedding I put them in the freezer 
where they lived in a frozen state for many 
years among the steaks and rouladen.

Although I treasured them dearly I eventually 
had to throw them out and they died.

I remember the single red rose my seven
month old son, with the help of his father
 brought me on my very first Mothers Day.
It was one of the proudest days of my 
life actually holding the title of all 
titles, Mother. I had held that dream 
in my heart since I was a young girl.

Time past before my son said the word Mother,
And long before he did, that rose had also died.

In the years to come I received many roses.
Red roses, yellow ones, white roses, blue,
orange roses, pink roses, rainbow roses too.
For Mothers day, wedding day, birthdays,
holidays, date days, Sundays and just for fun days.
Roses were always there from the day of marriage 
until they filled my husbands grave.

Now all those roses, every single one, all gifts
of love, have died. Every last one.

The most amazing thing occurred over all
those years, although the roses died
memories of each and every one of them
live on till this day. I still see them in their 
original beauty, smell their sweet scents. 
If it wasn’t for those roses, would I still
remember those special days? 

My eyes have taken the pictures of each rose
and filed them in my heart, where roses never die.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
Contest: Roses, Roses, Roses

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans

Details | Narrative | |

How a Blue Rose Came to be

Once upon a time, many years ago,
There was a sweet and lovely -  red, red Irish rose,
That was plucked prematurely, from the garden vine;
A budding beauty, taken in her prime.

She was laid to rest, upon the death, of a lovers dream;
Upon a chest of ebony, where lie, his would-be  Queen; 
Lowered deep into the depths, of the church yard cemetery;
Her scarlet petals, wilting in the summer breeze.

Then the earth begin to fall, like autumn leaves;
Upon  her petals, and the chest of ebony,
From above her tomb, where stood the grieving groom
Weeping , weeping,  like a willow tree.

Then the sky begin  to disappear, amid that mournful cry,
As  tears - from above, fell from that lovers eyes,
And came to rest, like dew drops on that  Irish rose, 
As she disappeared beneath the earth, there in his grief below 
In time, he laid a stone of ivory - upon her grave;
Etched deeply  - with the promise he had made:
To love his Irish Rose - forever and a day.


The years and all their seasons came and went
And a million lonely tears were cried and spent
Upon her grave where everyday he kneeled and prayed
And dreamed of her until his dying day.  


The epigram has long since faded on the ivory stone   
That still stands alone   upon her grave
Where from the million tears of love he gave
A seemingly impossible - blue, blue rose has grown.

 Written:  June 18, 2010

Note:  To late for the contest,
but I thought I would post it anyway. 

Copyright © Elaine George

Details | Quatrain | |

Ode to a rose on a sunset

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as the clouds dip into the sea.
A kiss from that rose as the waves fall,
over the beach to a rose kissed me.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as we wrap in lovers embrace.
A kiss from a rose as homeward we go,
to a bed clothed in satin and lace.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
with passion and warmth do we grasp.
A kiss from that rose that blossoms and blooms,
my hand in her labour pain clasp.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
that wanton and curvy young bride.
A kiss from that rose that huddles our babe,
so loving, in motherly pride.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
without whom I'd not share my life.
A kiss from that rose who selflessly filled,
the place of my darling rose wife!

(c) anaisanais - A M Docherty - Wales, United Kingdom. (7/8/2013)

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Personification | |


She holds herself above the thorns of bitterness-
So sharp  and green with envy of her loveliness-
As she trembles in the chill of winter’s breath-
That stills the beating of her scarlet breast-
As  her petals fall like drops of blood 
Upon the snowy mantle white
As beautiful in death
As she was – my Rose - in life


Author:  Elaine George
Awarded: First Place
Brian Strand's 1 to 8 contest

Copyright © Elaine George

Details | Ballad | |

The Dragon and the Rose

Outside of civil man’s well tended garden,
A field of briars willfully encroached,
Threatening the peaceful flowers without pardon.
Oh these gardeners fought hard as the briars approached.

“You don’t belong here, you’re not good enough!”
“You are snarled with iniquity and with thorns.”
“You live a life so very harsh and rough…”
“What good can you bring?” they said with deep seated scorn.

And the briar replied that hot summer day,
“Deep within these unforgiving boughs
Lives a flower who doesn’t have much to say
Except a story concerning what you espouse.”

“You see there lives a dragon scorned just over the way,
Who tossed opportunity and harbingers to the wind,
Because life is glorious and he loves to play…
Carefree and cavalier is how his days were spent.”

“He playfully trampled gardens carefully tended,
By pious gardeners without wings who would never fly,
Until he happened upon a flower wonderfully scented,
Crimson in color, the flower reflected beauty in his eye,”

“Eagerly he reached forward to make it his own,
But this glorious flower was protected by thorns,
And gave the dragon a prick to change his tone,
And it was in that prick that true love was born.”

“Now the dragon is older and has spent his days,
Watching over this rose, the love of his life,
Learning about beauty and awe inspiring ways.
His world now protected by thorn and briar.”

“He has discovered great beauty and learned much,
And no longer does the dragon destroy with fire.”
“But should you gardeners even dare to touch
A single branch or bough in this tangled briar…”

“You will face both the Dragon and the Rose,
Who with great love now protect each other,
From pious gardeners who would have them go,
Because neither can be kept on a tether.”

“So snip your lilies and pluck your weeds,
Make your lives as perfect as they can be,
For in this harsh briar we continue to watch love grow,
That of a magnificent Dragon and the beautiful Rose.”

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Sounds of a Rose

The Red Rose speaks softly
          with velvety smoothness, it beckons me
          come, hear my song of gladness
          as I sing a lullaby

The Yellow Rose has a sound of authority
          beware the thorns of life as you are
          pricked by unforeseen events
          tread carefully lest you stumble and fall

The Pink Rose is the rose of love shared
          it sighs gently like a lover caressed
          it glistens with dewdrops like tears of bliss
          and seeks to be lovingly cared for

The White Rose is the symbol of purity
          its voice is that of compassion
          as it pleads with all who see it
          be ye kind one to another

The Black Rose speaks in tones of finality
          as it coaxes one on their death bed
          come to me on your journey to eternity
          where will you spend it is his question

Embrace the sounds of the rose
          when each comes your way
          let them engulf you in their special manner
          yes, embrace the sounds of the rose

Copyright © Curtis Moorman

Details | Free verse | |

Bouquet Of Peace

A delicate pink rose brings me a new voice A bright red rose takes my breath away A yellow rose melts my heart like no other A white rose shows me the purity of life A rose bouquet of peace to share with all
Entry into contest of Moses New Contest: New or Old poems, Beautiful, 10 lines or less 2nd Place Winner

Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown

Details | I do not know? | |

Heavens Rose

Beholding this heuristic flower which grows....

Astonishment amid the midst of the deserts dust

Isolations guise so shunned, this beauty it seems

Emitting an emollient fragrance as such

A nardostachys jatamansi ~

This healing and soothing ointment as rains

Loving cup, of sanctities moments such placid waters

Now rising from the parched soils of once barrenness

As a mastic mist of laudatories measures

Blanket it, with flourishings of precious dew

An inflorescent jasmine

Metamorphing into a prismatic rose

Before these melodious stones which smile....

As they gaze upon this magnificent splendour

Within a world wherein some still question as to how 

Could this ever be?

This renewing of such trodden petals; rousing

And once crushed by the very hands

Which now stand within bewildered wonderment

As they blink their sting rayed eyes....How?

These second chances of a new born life

The Resurrection, of a once lost soul....


Heavens Rose ~

Note: Smile ~ This is not an attack upon anyone but
"A Song of Hope & Faith!?" ~ "'Love,' Always," John!:) ~

Copyright © John Rhinem

Details | Pantoum | |

Rose Whisperer

The rose is enlightened by the dawn’s light Gorgeous in kind, every scent is still there Gardener spends hours working on their might Direct line to the floral realm she cares Gorgeous in kind, every scent is still there An approach used from many years ago Direct line to the floral realm she cares A kind of psychic beyond the real flow An approach used from many years ago She has a perfect talent, yard worker A kind of psychic beyond the real flow A rose whisperer is her thunder She has a perfect talent, yard worker The whisper of her heart is fabulous A rose whisperer is her thunder She lives for the part that’s harmonious The whisper of the heart is fabulous Gardener spends hours working on their might She lives for the part that’s harmonious The rose is enlightened by the dawn’s light Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey

Details | Senryu | |

Rose Petals on my Table

early morning dream a butterfly on my eyes tiny fingers' touch an innocent face eagerly waits with closed eyes daily breakfast kiss rush hour traffic jam flower girl at the window dew drops on fresh rose ringing telephone nobody to attend it quivering roses afternoon tea time rose petals on my table another sun set © kashinath karmakar(21st August 2011) ============================= Placement:5th;(Sept.2011) Contest:Morning,noon or night senryu Sponsor:Francine Roberts

Copyright © kash poet

Details | Rhyme | |

Rambling Rose

You live for empty pleasures
They fade through each new song,
I finally see the big picture
You were weak, not strong.

I was young looking for guidance
Impressionable and quite rare,
But wolves in sheep's clothing
Can't love, for their lives are barely there.

Weeds grow in anything
But rambling roses grow on vines,
Their thorns protect all that’s around
Guarding their gates from the intruding kind.      

All you were was temporary
A stumbling block for the time,
But what’s a mountain in your way
After you decide to climb.

I was young looking for guidance,
Impressionable and quite rare,
But wolves in sheep's clothing
can't love, for their lives are barely there.

They can never destroy a rambling rose
For they are made strategically rare
They can never blossom or unfold
For their lives were never there.

By: Sabina Nicole
Written: 7-11-12

Copyright © Sabina Nicole

Details | Free verse | |

in memory of a rose

your velvety blossoms
slowly withers away
once tender roots
have now decayed
at the thought i cringe
such insidious disease
gradually infects
each and every leaf

moldy black spots
crinkled stained edges
your magnificent growth
gradually suppresses
your unsurpassed beauty 
now fuzzed up and gray
crinkled debilated stems
a dull distorted array

shoots barely opened
leaves now curled and bent
such unforgettable moment
your petals soon descend
your spicy scent has drifted
such sickly brittle vein
Flowers now discolored
and left to thrive on pain

after months of nurturing
your once marvelous display
the thought of you slowly wilting
has left me in dismay

*My theme is taken from Constance's Poem "in Memory of a rose"*

Copyright © Rashana King

Details | Free verse | |

Healing a bleeding rose

A soul weeps in flesh for the pain I left behind.
 I am sorry for the pain,the tears, I left for you to bear. 
These healing words I send with a bumble bee to heal a bleeding rose. 
These napkin like words I pray can wipe your tears and snotty nose.
 I was young and naive,I cherished my pride instead of your heart . 
There the coldest winter did start. 
If it makes you happy I disposed of the mistress. 
Who faded in long lost memory of shadowed kisses.
 No,no,no I am sorry for writing that,
its a poets bold habit of honesty,
but in writing this I thought i should be honest and honest I shall be.I apologize for leaving your emotions suppressed,unknown and ostracized. 
Yes, I know the ocean swollen with your tears,the angels descended on a bloody battle field to  hear your cry.I hope you can summons them again and reconsider the report to the almighty farther. 
If I could write this apology in the eye of the sky I would,for my remorse to be seen , a once foolish human being .Your heart I didn't mean to decay. I apologize for the lies, cries,for making you eat sadly all those ice creams and soggy apple pies,from absorbing tears fallen from yours eyes. Left to wonder in the vastness of the universe alone. I am sorry also sorry for the smudged ink and some of the lines. I cried along with them, imaging your painful times.

Yours truly Elliott Bowe 
To:Simone Descartes

Copyright © Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT

Details | Free verse | |

A Black Rose

When death and his friends walked by it,
 It simply smiled and sank a little into its soil.

When its fresh air started to pollute, like the water it sapped on,
It simply smiled and sank a little into its soil.

When it sees the dusk rises out of the ground,
It simply smiled and sank a little into its soil.

When the kids that knew of his presence, showered him with their blood,
It simply smiled and sank a little into its soil.

When a soft hand tendered to its ravaged petals,
When a sweet lip whispered comforts into its stems,
When its thorns were bathed in clear water,
It simply cried and grew a little towards the bright sun.

Copyright © Guy-Adler Dorelien

Details | I do not know? | |

~A Crimson Rose II~

'Crashing'....Into the rocks....

I stare, until a light mist

Gathers itself within my eyes

I gance to my left, towards the cove

A sailboat sailing, just beyond an empty shore

I peer, I stare, but, 'She' is not there

I resend my sight....

Her bluest, of alluring blue eyes

Heavenly eyes~Her timeless glow!

Wearing a flowered sundress

Her shining, and flowing auburn hair

Standing there ~

I beam, as I gently ring the chimes

Those, that she did once fashion

Forever there, now by my side

Dolphines and butterflies

Her favorite flower....'A Crimson Rose' ~

I then set my coffee down

And, gather them within my hand

I think, I shall keep the top up, today 

It is, kind of cold....

"Can we dear, can we"

Peter Gabriel ~


Driving down a coastal road

On a grey and cloudy, seaside day

Somber silence, as I look toward the west

The oceans breaks, as I glance upon its edge....

Gazing, beyond its horizon, and beyond all time ~

Turning back ahead, and into the rear view mirror

A tiny heart, red, and her golden cross!

A tear from the corner of my eye, falls, as I arrive

I slowly pull up, park, and once again, get out

Across the solemn ground

That I have crossed before, I walk

I quietly and humbly kneel down

As I run my fingers, through her glistening hair....

"Hello my love," I say, as I lay them tenderly

Before 'Her Eyes!'~

There, for her grace to see~'Her Beauty!'

I carefully arrange them, my heart bleeding inside

As I remove the old~"And there you are, 'My Dear!'"

I then stand, and I hold her close....

Kissing the perfectness, of her wonderous lips!

And I whisper, "always," into her everlasting soul ~

"Forever 'My Love,' forever!"

A bright gleaming as I look unto the sky

And then, I close my eyes....

"In your eyes, the light the heat, I am complete"

"Can we dear, can we"

She giggles, as I hand her an eternal

And neverending promise, once again, within  


~A Crimson Rose~

Copyright © John Rhinem

Details | Free verse | |

The prettiest rose unfurls

Just as each tender petal
Of the prettiest rose unfurls
Its fragrant silken form
I hold in my mind
A memory or thought
Of each tender moment
I have graciously shared with you

Just as each tender petal
Of the prettiest rose unfurls
Releasing its natural beauty
To an awe-inspired world
I hold in my heart
A love that grows evermore deeply
Despite thinking I’ve given my all

Just as each tender petal
Of the prettiest rose unfurls
Till it blooms in radiant glory
I give you everything I am
Protect you and cherish you
Knowing I am the luckiest
Most blessed person in the world

Just as each tender petal
Of the prettiest rose unfurls
After which blooms wither and fall away
I remember how much you 
Need to know daily you’re cherished
By someone who loves you more
Than words can ever express

You are as each tender petal
Of the prettiest rose unfurls
My love my life my future

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Haiku | |

Two Quills And A Rose

two quills and a rose
on the same wooden table
love triangle

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago

Details | Rhyme | |

With Him goes a Rose

It was only a few days
On their barren soil
Through a doorway he went
So many lives now spoiled

An explosive device
Plastic in design
Could never be detected
Now a life resigns
The regimental medic
Rushes to his aid
To stem his internal bleeding
Through his eyes he fades

His lifeless soul lies lonely
As he is gently stretchered away
Where he will be flown back home
To where the angels play

In honoured ceremony
As he is carried to his carriage
On the tarmac awaits
His fiance, without marriage

In the chapel of rest
She stands in a tear laden pose
Her tribute to her lost one
With him goes a Rose

For tomorrow she will awake
A new day in her life
As she remembers her love
Who would have made her his wife

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Ballad | |

When I Stopped That Day To Pick Death's Rose

I heard a little rumor from
a stranger on the road today;
he wore a heavy veil of dusk
to keep the winter's song at bay.

His face was well concealed; although,
his shriveled hands had drawn my sight;
it seemed like they were withering
and, like the moon, a pallid white.

"A little further down this road,
there lies a curse'd patch of grass
obscured by trees to hide its shame;
for that, I know I am to blame.

The flow of time had left that place,
yet still the living wandered in,
until they saw that wicked plant
whose very growth was deemed a sin."

The frigid notes were ominous,
like most of what the old man said,
and quickly did his coal-coat flee
to leave but silence in his stead.

A trav'ler's prank is what I thought,
but further down the road I saw
an isolated trust of trees
with polished trunks and lively leaves.

Surveying past the tow'ring brown,
I stood in awe at Gaia's gate;
if anything, I had to know
how nature could intimidate.

The grass was like an emerald floor,
a regal rug for royalty,
and aromatic jewels stood proud
amongst the scattered shrubbery.

But then, I sensed a mournful soul
and heard a fright'ning tearful call;
at center grew a single rose,
left weeping within wooden walls.

Its petals were like chimney soot,
but had the most enchanting smell;
its stem and leaves were silver clad,
a gorgeous blossom spawned from hell.

Despite the omens I had heard,
there was a certain beauty here.
If such a flower bred disgust,
I'd shelter it, neglecting fear.

There was no trace of bitter cold,
upon return from curse'd land.
I left that world with fragrant sin
clutched tightly in my mortal hand.

My heart gave forth compassion,
when I stopped that day to pick death's rose.

Copyright © Michael Perriatt

Details | I do not know? | |


Love, Hate, Life, Death,
The Rose is all of them enmeshed.
The blossom of Admiration grows,
As do the hateful thorns of Rose.
Accompanied by Spring in Life,
It follows the casket in death and strife.

Copyright © Syd Floyd

Details | Rhyme | |

The Black and the Red Rose

Scarlet red rose
Flower for my wife
My pillar of strength
Partner for life
But the other side of me
Is the rose in satin black
Part of the man i am
The side i sadly lack
I can walk in through the door
And kiss my loving wife
I can say i worked late
The other side of my life
While my wife's at home
I am driving in other towns
Picking up the ladies
In the back seat, settle them down
Showing no remorse
This black rose i wear
If she ever found out
Heart rendering tear
Arriving home usually late
My loving wife in anxious wait
Met with a kiss, i internally cry
To do this to her, i ask myself Why?

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | I do not know? | |

Me the Rose

If you passed a rose a long your way, would you stop to acknowledge its being?
Would you press it up against your nose to smell the sweetness that it holds?
Would touch its beauty?
 Or would you pick it to make it your own?
Take it home to show it off, knowing that it will only die?
You want to love its beauty, so set it in your favorite vase
You fill it with water hoping that she will live a little longer.
You set it upon your desk to admirer her at first glance.
Days pass and she has lost her beauty
Her paddles have fallen to the floor
Nothing is left to hold so dear, so we toss her away without a tear.
Would you be so cruel to me?
Not see any more beauty upon my soul!
My body  is old and most die a lone
What a world I live in

Copyright © Reynolda Garay

Details | Rhyme | |

LIFE- bed full of roses and thorns

Life is a bed
Full of roses and thorns
It’s a painful road laid
Which is full of happiness and mourns
Here we don’t find
Happiness in every way
Because it’s not a fairy tale kind
Here we also find some who cry whole day

When we try to pluck roses
It’s common that we get hurt by its thorns
Life is a photo with many poses
Were we are only clowns

Every person here dreams
To live happily
But there are horror screams
Where we are stuck terribly

It does not happen as we think
Because it’s only about our fate
Sometimes our ideas don’t link
As it's never is too late.....

Copyright © Pooja Sivakumar

Details | Lyric | |

A Symbol Of Our Love

I long to see this love we have blossom daily with each passing day 
The beauty of which we can't see but we can feel it all the same
I love it when the sun comes up and the birds sing sweetly too
This rose will be on our bench every day of the year I spend with you.

This bench of love is reserved for us for many years to come
Sitting here now I say to you that I want you for the rest of our lives
The rose is a symbol of all that is pure, our trust, our hope and love
Two hearts shall not be broken when they've been blessed by God above.

I promise you that each year will be better than the one before 
A  rose I’ll leave on this bench as each year we’re married passes by
I’m always going to be here for you my darling you’re the one I adore 
This rose represents the longing  in my heart, I want you forevermore.

To show just how much I care I will plant a rose bush here just for you
When I look at our little bench each year and think of how it all began    
I'll remember with pride, that eve I proposed and you said “I will marry you”
As I slipped on the ring, you'd tears in your eyes, as the moon came into view.

When times catches up, grey hair sets in, grandchildren running wild at our side
I hope you'll be by my side on our bench with our roses still growing with love 
But if you're not with me,It won't be hard to remember that night of my life
When I proposed  one beautiful eve, we married and were husband and wife.

Copyright © Pam Woolford

Details | Pantoum | |

Too Late to Leave


                                ...The sun rose again the next morning
                                and since then, the days pile up and wait
                                I'm longing to leave too...maybe I'm gone
                                hope is dead and life goes on without me

                                And since then, the days pile up and wait
                                for a return that I know won't be
                                Hope is dead and life goes on without me
                                ignoring the pain of her infinite absence

                                For a return that I know won't be
                                I'm longing to leave too...maybe I'm gone			                 Ignoring the pain of her infinite absence
                                ...the sun rose again the next morning


Copyright © Ruben O.

Details | Light Poetry | |


I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.

Copyright © VICTOR BUN

Details | Limerick | |

Undone Hidden Flaws

There once was a garden in Thomaston
But all the hidden flaws show now in sun
     Bombarded by winter cold
     Delicate Easter dress bold
Became frozen, tattered, falling undone

Now that lovely garden in Thomaston
Back in early spring's golden rays of sun
      Rose blooms, tulips open tips
      Flawless are flowers no thrips
Remember Rose Trellis_ love's embrace spun

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Rhyme | |

Tender of Roses

Beloved, lovely roses: gift of God and lover’s flower,
Spread your colored petals and cradle tender showers.
While admiring the blossoms with their beauty to behold,
Ought we not to know the Tender of such lovely garden groves?

For He lovingly and thoughtfully wields His pruning shears
To cut away the stems of old for fuller future years.
He cultivates and feeds them. He attends them as a Father
Looking daily to their needs; so faithfully He waters.

From the dawn of morning dew until the setting sun arrays
Caring always for His own until that great appointed day…
When the Gardener comes to claim each one the earth held as its own.
He gently picks it at its peak and for His pleasure takes it home.

As God did one glorious morning, when the Perfect Rose had bloomed.
He rolled away the stone and met with Mary at the tomb.
There the sweetest Rose of Sharon rose that we die not alone.
But be gathered for a garden grove, surrounding heavens throne.

Copyright © Tom Valles