Diamonds smile in her solferino sky tonight.
Henna rose tendrils twine the trellis of her cheek,
lilacs twist and hiss in her hennaed hair,
snaking against the violet velvet backdrop of night.
Behind ecstasy-wide eyes her untold dreams
etch sinuous illusions on psychedelic silk screens.
She'll trip the fantasy light with him tonight,
dancing the razor edge of danger and delusion,
candyflip kisses clinging needily on her loved up lips.
Their iridescent amethyst laser light ride;
treading tracers, wading twilight's violet tide,
twining together in pulsing purple light.
An acid house glasshouse lavender love:
their forbidden hush-hush finger-to-lip love.
The single beam of her mind's strobe light on these nights
when a mauve mist envelops and enraptures her,
ambient trance chants entrancing her ear,
henna rose tendrils clinging damply to her cheek,
the tickle and pull of the dancefloor tormenting her feet.
Twisting and twirling in techno beat heat,
colours swirling, amping in lilac love-light,
whirling the purple heart party haze tonight.
The clouds wept that bleak stormy Wednesday
The stream in the farm land ghyll overflowed.
Shrouded within the moorland mist
The water rose then rose and rose
Yet with renewed hope and speculation
Wee lads waded where ‘Turner Lane’ once was.
Beyond the boundary stone wall
The patter of many voices
Laughing in the face of the fierce wind
After all ‘Jack Steel’s Red Barn was there.
Hay bales still warm and snug
From the urchins body
Gave shelter to the wearisome
Those of us threaten by the rain.
My hybrid beauty, Sutter's Gold
Your scent so sweet, your colors bold
There could not be a fairer rose.
Most perfect petals now are those.
Your leaves are green and fresh, unbitten.
You follow every rose rule written.
You are your perfect best today
With the rose show still three weeks away!
With the rose show still three weeks away
You are your perfect best today.
You follow every rose rule written,
Your leaves are green and fresh, unbitten.
Most perfect petals now are those.
There could not be a fairer rose.
Your scent so sweet, your colors bold,
My hybrid beauty, Sutter's Gold.
For Matt Caliri's " Write a Backwards Poem" Contest won 3rd place
The shinning sun, who warmly glows,
Doth send his ray to court the rose.
And enamored with her velvet way,
He proffers her the gift of day.
Then adds a string of dawn and dew,
In tribute to her crimson hue.
Thus blushing in her lovely way,
The rose invites the sun to stay.
The sun then smiling, with a gleam,
Bestows to her a precious beam--
That she may wed, though from afar,
This charming and enchanted star.
I strolled along a garden path
as the sky threatened a thunderous wrath.
I knew I should run for shelter soon.
Our storms were often severe in June.
Lightning spit from an angry sky
and the gusty wind let out a cry.
My feet froze near a rose in bloom.
The roaring sky foretold of doom.
In despair, I reached for the darkest cloud
feeling it's rage, my soul wept out loud.
Wanting my sorrow to have a name
knowing the sky was feeling the same.
Lift me into the gale, I dared to ask.
Living in pain is a burdensome task.
Draw me through the rain, drench my heart,
cleanse me with the hope of a fresh start.
I screamed to the heavens, take me away,
where gray met with black, I wanted to stay.
Battered and bruised, hail pounded my skin.
Struggling for courage somewhere deep within,
I reached for the rose, wilted and torn,
the softest petal, the sharpest thorn.
I cried for the rose and I cried for me,
for the beauty that was and could never again be.
for the Rhyming Game contest (Joyce Johnson)
Those rose petals
"My pen drips of sorrow and on this paper, I write each tear"
. He was my treasure,my pot of gold.
When he passed and it made my blood run cold.
They laid him to rest so we put him in the ground.
The rose petals in my hands I through them all around.
My heart was broken when they said he died.
His rose petal covered casket is why my eyes will never be dried.
Teresa Skyles 13-Aug-11
Entered in Constance La France~A Rambling Poet~"Just write"contest
Night after night, she sits down and contemplates
In her mind she knows her loss, but still she sits and waits
He, her husband, another statistic he has become
Killed in a far away land, another soldiers blood has run
Day after day she's taken back, to moments they had shared
Carving their names on a tree, showing teenagers cared
Through green fields of pastures new, season after season
At fourteen years old they clicked, love was a reason
Whilst she paces their family home, his steps gone forever
Killed in a far away land, another life now severed
In her time their kids will be told, daddy's never coming home
For the angels have asked him to stay, just to let him roam
Memories of their pasts resonate within her mind
For she knows she'll find no other, for he was one of a kind
Outside the window where she stares, under many seasons skies
She sits down and contemplates, why the Rose always cries
In every sun set and every rise.
Let no cloud dark your skies.
When the rose has withered upon it's last peddle,
I shall no longer mend or meddle.
When I shall not meet your eyes anymore
We will be what was before.
I will not be there to hold your hand,
Or guard behind you as you stand.
I will not be your soothing succor,
Or your sweet and subtle future.
Gather all of your fond memories.
Be me something that you once cherished,
And let my lasting words never perish.
Be me something you could never sever,
I shall go away forever.
Into the plains to lay my head,
Where I can lay my worries to rest.
In this place you'll find me not,
For it is a secret place I long have sought.
I do not know if we shall meet again,
So know that I will always love you until the end.
If you should find yourself at a loss,
Remember me for what I was.
When the rose has withered upon it's last pedal,
I shall no longer mend or meddle.
Love me if you can, like me if you may,
But the winds have come to take me away.
Please keep them safe, all of our memories
And remember me.
With life's new seed that I have safely tucked,
I now wish you the best of luck.
Red rose sitting there
Why are you so fair?
Is it because your petals so soft
Are held perfectly aloft
In the morning air
Making all take the dare
To come and see you
And to wipe off the dew
That you collect on satin leaves
From every long night’s breeze
Or is it because of your scent
That captures all without consent
And forces them to see
How sweet nature can be
All while only coming close
To the center of a red rose
Perhaps it is that crimson hue
Which colors viewers points of view
Rosy red with delight
That stays with them until the night
That your petals break away
And fall from their spiral array
Red rose sitting there
I know why you are fair
Petals soft, scents so sweet
Crimson hue, all come to meet
And bring my senses until combined
In lovely symphony inside my mind
That only plays when I propose
To look upon you, Red Rose
When speaking on flowers it’s true as can be
My wife is by far the most beautiful to me
She has the scent of both beauty and love
She is a beautiful Rose that I hold above
Like the Rose she burst of color and life
She is the single Rose my beautiful wife
I don’t know about flowers as you can see
But my wife is a beautiful Rose to me
For Brian's Contest
Taking time smelling with your noses Thinking Before you lie in a bed a roses You better respect the thorns With these two a rose was born Some complain a rosebush has thorns Grasped with haste and you may be torn Or rejoice a thorn bush has roses Admire the beauty in which the thorny poses You knew when you began to pick Handle with care lest you get pricked A young gardener has a red thumb An older gardener rejoicing he has none
betwixt the circuitous cocoon of rose hips wrestles a world of unfathomable infamy
induced by light and shadow murmur influences ridicules scent.
conscripted into nature's loggerhead shrike chirp by forces unknown
influenced by the pestilence of greeds monkey see monkey do, ovary retards.
up from the grave of the anchor root rises the sun of expansion
cleansing the cane to shoulder its crown watching bud eye fornicate.
obliging the filament petition to pullulate the wind bats its lash
awakening the anther to feed its feeder roots.
efflorescent anatomy of stamen and pistil captivate beauties awe
apathy will bloom its withered rose until perceived with the nose!
The sun rose red like fireballs being played
Soon as it rose clouds enveloped to stay
Sand rippled the clouds became bleak and gray
Streaks of cobalt, gray and snow white today
But the doves did coo saying I love you
Roosters, crows, chirp rip chirp rip too
At one time magenta undercoated the clouds
Giving hope where non was allowed
The rippled effect like a clam's fine shell
Touched my heart with feelings so it swelled
Such a day to be blessed with life
Why would anyone want to destroy with a knife?
All at once stillness decended, peace, love
As one vulture the sky ascended
Tranquility upon porch surrounded
I could feel its presence my heart astounded
One lone vulture returned in flight
Looking for food or just for fun_delight
The dove coos once again nesting instinct
Has settled upon him
Peace, love, joy am filled
Thank you God for my time being still___
The ramblings of a yellow rose,
What are they, do you suppose?
And is there any sense in prose,
When written by a rambling rose?
And does it have a single purpose,
Or is such stuff as this simply surplice?
And if we were to juxtapose,
With artwork of a deep red rose,
Would it be that yellow prose,
Simply failed to keep its pose?
And tumbling down to fall apart,
Are ramblings written of yellow's heart.
A yellow heart that nearly froze,
Just because the artist chose,
To base his work on redder rose,
While creating lovers prose.
While yellow must suffice to spend,
His imaginary to represent a friend,
And much as this he could pretend,
He’d rather it not start a trend.
For rambling on, like a rose,
His thoughts follow where a lover goes,
And impatiently he tos and fros,
And through him yellow always shows.
So, in the dimming of the day,
As the artist puts his pen away,
Sometimes young lovers loose their way,
And with their loved ones cannot stay.
With yellow creeping into mind,
Love's ideals are left behind.
So what's the point of yellow prose?
Does it have one, do you suppose?
And when supposition comes to a close,
Would you trust a yellow rose?
Such smile so rare that fascinates me;
Bestowed in the angel, not so long, I've known.
Like a lightning that strikes in the middle of the day,
In my heart I, quickly, built a home of her own.
An angel I've known not from a friend or a dream,
Who has teased me so gently to put-off my heartaches and pains.
She just befell in my solitude as I try to rebirth.
And helped me forget the troubles and the things that I hate.
How I love to hold her and offer her a throne
For to me she is regal and deserves to be crowned.
Before I could do it she has transformed to a form,
The angel is now a flower before the break of the dawn.
Behold! A contest erupts among the bees in the field,
To hover upon this new flower the sunrise revealed.
I could only sigh to the heavens to send a rare summer rain
To nourish and sustain this lonely rose called Lene.
Time & Date Written:
10:04pm - 10:33pm,
February 17, 2008
Dedicated to: A.T. whom I had the chance to chat in the net
when I was in Phnom Phen, Cambodia. The poem is written just
for you, my special friend, whether we've only known each
other through the net or by subconscious circumstances.
And when age wrinkles your lovely face, you can always claim
that once upon a time an obscure poet had purposely written a
poem just for you.
It was a one-time conversation(February 10, 2008) but her story
struck me to the bones that I vowed responsibility to protect her,
anyhow, if ever I will have the chance to meet her personally.
The above poem is written on imaginary impression of her that
if she ever deferred her dark plans and have the chance to remember me,
and read what I wrote, she will know that to me or perhaps to other
people she is special, desirable, and deserving of a happy life too.
In a bed of roses.
I felt the sweetest touch,
The coolness of its petals,
The thickness of its thorns.
In a bath of roses.
The warmth of the water,
the scent of its face,
the popping of the bubbles,
the way it moves with me.
In a room full of roses.
I feel the love in the air,
I see their redness everywhere,
Happiness and fondness through me,
its just a special place to me.
With all these beautiful roses.
I know that I'm loved.
I will keep this moment in my heart,
Something so tender to me,
Hope we'll never fall apart.
I took a single long-stemmed rose to one I loved so dear.
I laid it at the headstone and quietly shed a tear.
A flood of memories filled my soul, the tears began to fall,
Then through the gentle summer breeze I heard a familiar call.
It sounded like a voice I hadn't heard in oh, so long.
The voice of my dear Mother, sweeter than the angels' song.
"My darling daughter, dry your eyes," she whispered in the wind.
"Your pain is temporary. Someday we'll meet again.
I'll be standing there with Jesus as you cross the great divide,
And together we will wait for you and welcome you inside.
We'll stroll down Heaven's golden streets, walking hand-in-hand,
Just me and you and Jesus as we tour the Promised Land.
You can't even imagine the beauty that awaits.
I cannot wait to see the joy as it overcomes your face.
I appreciate the rose you brought to symbolize your love.
But I must leave it here below. We have plenty up above.
So take it with you when you go, and remember what I've spoken.
And try to smile when you think of me, don't let your heart be broken.
Remember all the good times, and the times that are yet to be.
You know I love you with all my heart, and I know that you love me."
As quickly as it had begun, the wind faded away.
Her voice was gone and so I turned to where the red rose lay.
I blinked in total disbelief. I rubbed my tear-streaked eyes.
There in the place of the single rose was an incredible surprise.
A dozen long-stemmed roses were scattered in its place
I gathered them up quickly, as a smile came to my face.
I took a single long-stemmed rose, and she sent down eleven.
I never will forget the day that roses came from Heaven.
What lies with in a beauty of a rose
Do you think it has feelings, do you think it knows?
Can rose know the reason it has picked
Does it know when it's there to cheer up the sick
Does it feel joy and pride if it's for a lover
Does it notice the tears when placed on a grave of a mother
Does it smell as pretty if given from a broken heart
Or does it smell just the same as when love first starts
I would say the rose is a compassionate flower
Its there to show beauty in even the darkest of hours
She sits in her room alone and waiting
Bursting to bloom is her anticipating
This girl so young just a teenager at heart
One day to adventure for her life to kick start
She grew up reserved never venturing out
Believing she was ugly her mind so in doubt
Boyfriends she's never had close friends kept at bay
No childhood deserves this not growing up to play
Then out of the blue to the school ball she is asked
Her mind now in circles showing it's protective mask
The night arrives, in turmoil she sits waiting
So beautifully dressed, soon to be dating
Her apprehension runs riot, her life crying for change
To live so normal and rid this inner derange
As she turns to the door her eyes starting to tear
A glow lights the room as a beautiful red rose appears
Slowly she turns as she captures the sight
This flower so red emitting this light
This beauty of nature with it's petals so bloomed
Radiate as they grace around her bedroom
At the top of the stairs soon she'll walk down
Into the arms of her date, wearing the most beautiful gown
To the school ball she will go, with her chaperone
When the red rose was released, no longer she'll be alone
He’s found his groove again
His pen finds a fount to reign
In the smile of a lady, he muses
In her voices, his rhyme bounces
Her presence illuminates his lines
Her thoughts take him thousands of miles
His rhyme is her unfading beauty
Her personae is his poetry
Her life is his prose
With this poem, he offers her a living rose
On days of early sunrise many colors greet my eyes
Girls in their pastel Easter dresses is one my eye spies
When looking at all the colors presented by Crayola
As I repose on day off in my pergola
Down where wild things play and I would want to stay all day
Where I could reach.. touch the sky-blue sky from this place of play
Across the way where Mulberry Tree gives its fruit to me
Then I can make that Mulberry jam that will draw many bees
Mulberry such picture pretty color to spread on toast
Great color Mulberry for jam on toast this I will boast
Over by the Mulberry Tree where the Brown Turkey grows
Just below the running rose on the trellis of Misty Rose
Nature offered Crayola colors that we favored
Even Razzle Dazzle Rose sunsets that day's end flavored
(This was inspired by Linda-Marie Brianna contest about Crayola Crayon.)
I once heard and had myself a taste
The emptiness of hell is as vast as space
I entered the vortex trying to find
How to drive the demons from my mind
Like a snake I learned to shed my skin
Found the door to my soul and crawled on in
It was as hollow as hollow can be
Full of pain, despair and agony
Like an Eagle gliding upon the wind
I traveled back through my own sin
Through the darkness I could barely see
Twisted souls crying out to me
For but a second I thought of a funny thing
My soul is like a novel by Stephen King
Just when I thought I could take no more
At the end of my soul I found a door
With all of the courage that I could find
I opened the door and entered my mind
The door vanished and with no place to hide
I faced the horrors I found on the other side
As I entered my mind I was able to see
The demons on other side of my reality
They were evil little twisted runts
Like a thousand army ants on the hunt
They had talons, fangs and eyes like a cave
That reflected how darkness was all they crave
They had stingers they used like electronic sutures
As they were connecting my past directly to my future
With all the love in my heart and soul
Battling them became my only goal
At the end of the battle all bloody and sore
I came upon another door
I opened the door knowing I would die
But found myself at the back of my eye
All was suddenly clear to see
Like a movie playing in-front of me
At the bottom of my flask with eyes insane
The devil was blowing a clear blue flame
As he blew the flame the bubbles started to roll
Releasing the ghost into my soul
The smoke rose and then condensed
Into acidic demons that ate through the fence
Ate through the fence and entered my mind
Connecting my past and future to keep me blind
The purple smoke that escaped rose to a throne
And formed the purple genie who welcomed me home
Then a metamorphous occurred before my eyes
And the genie transformed into the "father of lies"
I could see in his eyes and his evil grin
He felt that I belonged to him
In that revelation it occurred to me
I ask of the Lord to "set me free"
I could taste the salt as I formed in a tear
Which ended my journey and all of my fear
As soon as that tear fell from my eye
What had been lost in the night was blue as the sky
It’s taken me years to write this rhyme
About one second I spent in my mind
A second that is clear to see
Released my soul for eternity
The rose grows unbalanced to the right
Because she is deprived of light,
Water is scarce, but when it can run,
The rose soaks it up and leans into the sun,
Her thorns are stunted and endearingly tender,
Though this means they do not have strength to defend her,
Her petals are thin and so easily torn,
Such a delicate flower the bush never had borne,
But far fairer roses selfishly surround her,
And this is how the gardener found her.
So pull out her petals so pretty and pale,
And break off her prickles so fragile and frail,
Then cut off her head and leave her to decay,
Tend the wilier roses and just walk away.
And as her sap weeps as she withers and rots,
The rose is watched smugly by the flowers in their pots,
And as she lies dying in darkness on the floor,
They turn to the sun and lounge in it some more,
And when the rain washes the dead rose away,
The flowers are asleep and have nothing to say.
And The Rose Said This To Me...
by Rick Rucker
I was talking to the Rose I held in my hand,
A long-stemmed red Rose, perhaps the fairest in the Land,
You see, I was a bashful guy, who really never knew,
'Bout the Power of the Rose, and the things that it could do.
I poured my Heart out, there were Tears involved,
I had serious issues, many of them unresolved.
As I prattled on, trying to talk, not whine,
I told the Rose, it took a tragedy, for me to grow a spine!
I went on and on, 'til something I detected,
The Rose was talking back to me, wholly unexpected!
The Rose offered to help me, like it had for others too,
If I would give a lovely Rose to Someone just like You,
That I would be rewarded by a big old juicy kiss,
Finally, The Red Rose also told me this,
In order to not Build your House of Love on shaky sand,
Never meet Your Love without a red Rose in your Hand!
You gave me a rose and now i don't like you.
Now that your gone that rose smells like boo-boo.
Written By: Jesikah Banks (11 year old niece)
Edited by Nicole Brown, her aunt