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Love Rose Poems | Love Poems About Rose

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

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Details | Personification | |

Violin

.                                              She sleeps in her rose wood bed,
                                                  under a blanket of velvet red;
                                                   old and alone and forgotten,
                                           she dreams of the love she once had.
                                              Once again she recalls his caress
                                                      on the curve of her hips
                                                                and her breast
                                                         as he moved his bow
                                                      on the strings of her soul,
                                                             playing her sound
                                                    'til his passion was spent.
                                                                        ~~~
                                           They traveled the whole world over,
                                                      to every city and town;
                                              the maestro, his bow and violin,
                                                 bringing each curtain down.
                                                                        ~~~
                                               He died in a cry of sweet refrain,
                                               clutching her strings to his heart; 
                                            as he fell to the floor in a final encore,
                                                       tearing her world apart.
                                                                        ~~~ 
                                           So she sleeps in her rose wood bed,
                                                  under a blanket of velvet red;
                                                         her strings still filled 
                                                    with the song of her soul,
                                                        etched by the maestro
                                                               that loved her
                                                               so long ago!

                                                                    ~~~~~

                                                          Author:  Elaine George

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

The Rose Bowl

The sky is one gigantic bowl of pink turned upside down, spilling soft rosy petals that peeked out from beneath snow white billowed clouds till - fully blossomed - they burst out. Growing radiant at the edge of twilight, they’ve scattered as rubescent streaks falling, lush and luminescent, as we watch in solitude. No parade this evening - just you and I aglow, wishing for an eternity to be like this: so splendidly in love. . . in the pink. One of my favorite free verse poems

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Titanium rose

Methyl deionized eyes galvanised her tortured heart into a titanium chrysalis. Aluminium perceptions inflicted a tunnel vision, pulling her into realms beyond a state of reality. Deep within, a voice echoed, yearning to be freed, but she closed her ears - drums beating to rust. Content in her prison of emotionless metallic elements, her soul was divided by a camouflaged concrete façade. Constantly it beat against her cocooned heart, but her wings had mutated into solid stone. Until, the sound of an enchanting sincere voice, reminded her of precious dulcet lullabies. Until, the vision of pure captivating eyes, carried her to a legitimate haven of innocence. Without a simple touch, he broke all her barriers, whispering colours into her black and white world. Charmed her to feel rare emotions, she once hid from, no longer lost, he placed her into a world she belonged. Radiant eyes now conceived an abundance of colours, floating among ruby roses, lilac lilies and orange orchids. Slept under silver stars, protected by the magnolia moon, rising with the saffron sun among stunning sapphire skies. He held her heart like the master painter with his brush, her only wish was for him to never leave her canvas blank. 3 March 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative | |

Wild Love

The blackberry's love for the garden rose
Brought down the gardener's wrath.
The blackberry sensed the danger
As he wended the garden path.

" A love so true as mine", he sighed,
"Must dare to brave the hoe.
Just a few more feet to reach her,
My true love she must know."

He crept along so quietly,
Sometimes quite out of sight
Until he nudged his darling's feet.
Did he dare to trust the light?

He heard the gardener's heavy boot
And hid in craven shame.
He knew he'd soon be weeded out,
A seedling with no name.

"Have I no worth since I don't rate
Some Latin nomenclature?
Without a well known parentage
Am I a freak of nature?

His darling's line was long and pure,
No skeletons in her past.
He had to make his feelings known.
Those boots were treading fast.

Gently then he wrapped his vine
Around his loved one's spine.
In great amazement he opined,
"Her thorns are sharp as mine".

The sweet rose felt his tender touch
And realized his fear
And wondered at his bravery
In coming to her here.

She heard the swishing of the hoe,
She heard those nearing feet.
Quietly letting down her leaves 
In a manner so discreet

She covered her wild lover.
The gardener unaware,
Stopped but to view her beauty.
He saw naught hiding there.

She whispered, "You are safe now".
The blackberry's heart was light,
Thankful that his dear sweet rose
Had not exposed his plight.

"A rose is still a rose." she said,
"By any other name
And in our distant ancestry,
We share some of the same".

"I'd rather know your wild love,
Than a love that's dull and tame,"
Cuddling close, returned his kiss
Without a bit of shame.

Next season there were seedlings
Of a very different kind.
The gardener delighted, cried
"A horticultural find."

The moral of this story?
Things aren't always what they seem.
The love you look down on today,
Could be tomorrow's dream.



Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2009

Details | I do not know? | |

~ A Velvet Rose ~

She writes with such fragrance....

Her words, like flowers

Flowing from her pen

Eyes like the ocean

Serenity, that never ends

The softness of her touch

Her heart melting from within

Such gentleness of colors

Like the still warming wind....

On journies she takes us

Her vision our eyes

The breath of her breathing

Brings life deep inside

A passage, her picture

These sands of her shores

I whisper her majestic

I long for her more....

Smiling as I see her

The breeze dancing through her hair

Such glory, her figure

Radiant I stare

At her light, this lady

Her wrappings of care....

Gentle is her essence

With her pureness profound

Her grace as she walks

As she passes I bow

To her wonders, her treasures

Her life, I bow....

For never have my eyes

Beheld such as she 

Never in this life

Have I found such a dream

Her eloquence, her meakness

Her enchanting soul

Painting this canvas, her portrait 

This splendor, for all to behold....

To love with such passion

The worlds hand, that she holds

Her fragrance, like flowers...."Her Beauty!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                ~ A Velvet Rose ~

Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

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 knelt 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
Author:  Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2011

Details | Romanticism | |

A Rose In The Heather.

So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather,
Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness,
So fragile is this rose laying in heather,
Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder,
I look at you and see this rose ever fading,
Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings,
But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust,
I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather,
For your beauty surpasses its own,

So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather,
Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories,
So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather,
Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals,
I look at you and remember the flower when it faded,
That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed,
Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope,
I would never compare you to this old heather and roses,
For its life was surpassed by yours,

Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather,
Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming,
This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you,
But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight,
I look at you now and see the love I sought inward,
Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself,
But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside,
I could never combine your world with mine,
You always looked passed never noticing me,

Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of 
chance,
Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing, 
That never could I fear,
I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted,     
But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2006

Details | Narrative | |

The Special Rose

She sits and rocks, so gently back and forth
Her chin leaning heavily on her chest.
In her hands she cradles, one flat waxed rose
And sighs as pain is swelling in her breast.

Her long grey hair, now tied up in a bun
Is what I see when entering the room.
I helplessly watch, her tear drops flowing,
They look like dew, upon the lonely bloom.

Slowly she looks at a picture nearby,
A glimpse of a smile creases her face.
Granddad with her, stand on their wedding day
With red roses, and a dress of white lace.

After the wedding, she said with a smile,
I took this one rose and waxed it back then.
Granddad had laughed at me wondering why.
I said, for the special memories when…….

And now this old rose, I hold in my hand,
Precious memories kept in my drawer
I pull it out remembering the day
When granddad loved me, and I loved him more.


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.25.2014
Contest: Encounters with Flowers 
5th

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

The Rose and the Thorn

I shall nay know all the wonders - you hold
For all too soon the winds of winter blow
Scarlet petals withering in the snow
How cruel the breath that kills the velvet rose 

Tears - that canst’ bear the thought of letting go
Forever frozen in this empty soul
A broken heart forever turned to stone
A broken stem left now to stand alone

Alas! I find that life is bitter-sweet
As I stand holding only memories
Of a rose blooming in the summer breeze
Here beneath this old weeping willow tree

Once I held the sweetest rose - ever born
Now – in my grief – I hold the bitter thorn.

                            ~~~

                    Author:  Elaine George

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sonnet | |

By Any Other Name

If love could have a color, I suppose
it wouldn’t be just any common shade.
I’d name it for the colors of the rose.
In heaven’s hues this flower is arrayed!

From chaste love’s hush of pink to heady rush
that’s shown by cardinal or crimson red,
the rose reveals the grades of ardor’s blush
unto the time it’s thought that passion’s fled.

But in the tint of amaranth, the fire
endures; in purple deep it can transcend,
while yellow blooms in bliss that does not tire,
and white’s fidelity will have no end.

Though black the bud, a red will grow thereof.
By any other name, the rose is love.


The rose is definitely my favorite flower!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

Details | Personification | |

Rose and Rose Marie

‘Twas on a morn’ in early spring
When I met Rose Marie
In a garden
Where she sat - upon a bench
Beneath a willow tree

Where - with a glance
My heart was stabbed
With pangs of jealousy 
For it was  - very plain to see
She was - by far - more beautiful than me

She spoke -  with colored words - like rainbows
Spun with  threads of gold 
As she described the man she loved
With all her heart and soul

She told me - of his beauty
Raven hair and eyes of green 
And as she talked  - he appeared -  before me
As in a  -  living dream

She told me - how she met him
On the Shore of Evermore
There in the fields - above the cliffs
Amid the mist - an ocean roar

She told me how -  with their first kiss
He carried her away
As he poured his love - into her soul
There - so high above - that wind-swept bay
With Heaven  - but a breath away

Her words - like magic - in that moment
Cast a  spell on me
For I too now - had fallen - so deeply - in love
With Cannon Lee

I longed to feel his breath 
His lips upon my velvet skin
I longed to quench - the lustful thoughts
That now  burned  - so deep within

So - when Rose Marie - stood up to leave
And turned her back on me
I dug my thorns into her wrist
And  sealed - my evil deed

My jealousy - now turned to poison
Ran quickly through her veins
And as she tried - to pry me loose
I clawed her - once again

"Tainted blood" - is what they say
Stole his love away
And that is how - I came to be here
On these cliffs today.

So tenderly - he holds me now
And  finally kisses me
As his tears - fall on my open petals
And trickle  - down my leaves

Then - from his lips - there comes a cry
Of such despair - it cracks the sky
“ My darling - my love - my life 
Why did you have to die?”


And here so high - above these cliffs
These cliffs of ‘Evermore’
I hear her name - resounding -  above  the ocean roar
‘Rose Marie’ - ‘Rose Marie’
As he cast me  -  with a final kiss
Into the raging sea.

            ~~~

Author:  Elaine George
August 29th, 2009

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Beautiful Rose

She stands at the garden wall
Smells the sweetness of the pink rose
A sweetness only matched by her beauty
A color only matched by the blush of her cheeks
The warm summer wind gently blows
Her short hair shining in the sun
It appears to be moving in the breeze
With the petals of the rose
 
I stand mesmerized as woman
And flower are one
Their beauty interchangeable
I catch a scent riding the wind
My nostrils flare
Is it her or the rose I smell
 
She plucks the petals one by one
I see her lips as succulent as the nectar saying
“He loves me, he loves me not”
I am caught up in this game
Feeling as if my love hinges
On the outcome of that last plucked petal
“He loves me,” the petal falls
Lightly to the dew filled, plush green grass
I breathe a sigh of relief for my beautiful rose
Lucky that it lives in my garden.

Copyright © Travis Tapley | Year Posted 2010

Details | Personification | |

Rose and Rose Marie - A Re-post

‘Twas on a morn’ in early spring
When I met Rose Marie
In a garden
Where she sat - upon a bench
Beneath a willow tree

Where - with a glance
My heart was stabbed
With pangs of jealousy 
For it was  - very plain to see
She was - by far - more beautiful than me

She spoke -  with colored words - like rainbows
Spun with  threads of gold 
As she described the man she loved
With all her heart and soul

She told me - of his beauty
Raven hair and eyes of green 
And as she talked  - he appeared -  before me
As in a  -  living dream

She told me - how she met him
On the Shore of Evermore
There in the fields - above the cliffs
Amid the mist - an ocean roar

She told me how -  with their first kiss
He carried her away
As he poured his love - into her soul
There - so high above - that wind-swept bay
With Heaven  - but a breath away

Her words - like magic - in that moment
Cast a  spell on me
For I too now - had fallen - so deeply - in love
With Cannon Lee

I longed to feel his breath 
His lips upon my velvet skin
I longed to quench - the lustful thoughts
That now  burned  - so deep within

So - when Rose Marie - stood up to leave
And turned her back on me
I dug my thorns into her wrist
And  sealed - my evil deed

My jealousy - now turned to poison
Ran quickly through her veins
And as she tried - to pry me loose
I clawed her - once again

"Tainted blood" - is what they say
Stole his love away
And that is how - I came to be here
On these cliffs today.

So tenderly - he holds me now
And  finally kisses me
As his tears - fall on my open petals
And trickle  - down my leaves

Then - from his lips - there comes a cry
Of such despair - it cracks the sky
“ My darling - my love - my life 
Why did you have to die?”


And here so high - above these cliffs
These cliffs of ‘Evermore’
I hear her name - resounding -  above  the ocean roar
‘Rose Marie’ - ‘Rose Marie’
As he cast me  -  with a final kiss
Into the raging sea.

            ~~~
Author:  Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada


Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2011

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.

 
 







Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2010

Details | Romanticism | |

Love of a Rose

To have the love and sentiment
Of man, a vibrant rose,
Who courts with such a tenderness
While striking such a pose.

His flaming petals, soft and sweet,
That gently brush my lips,
A dashing leaf of lively green
Has slyly swept my hips.

His body tall and stiff with life,
His stalk down through his stem,
The shades of envy darken so,
That he becomes a gem.

His thorns, he wears them strong and proud
Though lethal they appear,
For thorns he bears to shelter me
And rid me any fear.

His velvet quivers in the breeze,
Like dancing sheets on fire,
Caress me love, from head to toe,
And see what may aspire.

For when a rose declares its love
Its pollen it will share,
So soft like dew drops over me,
I am captive in his lair.

Entangled leaf in leaf we are,
My petals soft and pale,
One jagged edge of you I feel
So tender without fail.

You trace my figure soft and slow
For petals, they will break,
But since you hold me warm and safe
They’re only yours to take.

So pick my petals, one by one,
And let them flutter by,
For all this world needs to survive
Are roses, you and I.

Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

You Know I Love You

Winds may howl,
Wild animals growl,
The forest grows cold, 
For I am lonesome and old
As the sun peaks through the clouds, 
I hear your soft, young voice so loud!
And though you speak dead man's lines,
You speak them with majesty divine
As I am wrapped in  my woe,
I only want you to know...
...that roses die black and violets lose blue,
But I will never die
And you know I love you!

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

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 
12.17.2014
Contest: Roses, Roses, Roses
2nd

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

The Rose

Once bloomed a rose so young and fair
With dark brown eyes and long black hair

Beside her be a tall dark tree
Whose branches stretch to smother thee

Too close beside the shadowy bark
That soon begins to leave its mark

She cries for help, but none shall hear
Her thorns too sharp, who’d dare go near?

To save this rose, who’d risk their life?
With naught to gain but pain and strife

Alone, afraid, she lays to rest
Her heart beats low inside her chest

And with the hour growing near
She sheds her final grieving tear

And so the rose soon falls asunder
Her final day, eternal slumber

She lies beside the old dark tree
The only one who mourns for thee

Copyright © Nina Hernandez | Year Posted 2010

Details | Pantoum | |

The Blue Rose

Blue velvet was the rose gifted my heart.
Poet was he and blue the blood from his thorn,
a rose as blue as the summer skies
a rose as blue as his ice blue eyes.

Poet was he and blue the blood from his thorn.
So gifted was he with the blue roses form.
a rose as blue as his ice blue eyes,
with thorns as sharp as his beguiling lies.

So gifted was he with the blue roses form
a rose as blue as the summer skies
with thorns as sharp as his beguiling lies.
Blue velvet was the rose gifted my heart.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

- Delicate Balance, Divine And Fragile -

Always inside living thoughts 
Once held a vision adoring thee  
Beholding beams though these eyes
Star spangled one look totally breathless  

This heart's calling your name precious
Together uniting  strengths join within power
Making hopes and dreams come alive
Saying onto myself breathtakingly gorgeous 

Adding this truly wonderful music 
Into the soul princess cut deeply singing tunes develop 
In every echo out of this world
I wish to retake the perfect soft breath held 
Melting golden feelings burning gasps warmly sigh 

Why do I love you so 
Wearing the glass slippers 
Fragile as a newborn butterfly taking flight
In all the flowers freshly plucked 
Standing out most beautiful 

A diamond rose stunning dewdrops sparkle 
Touching, kissing, loving you forever more
Holding someone special always showing them
how deeply appreciated they are 

Fireworks display our passion to share
in a world filled promise 
Conveying the love inside each tiny seed
picking you one precious gem 

Your words are sparkling wine
your presence divine 
Your beauty makes me comfortable dizzy
Intoxicating drunken in anything you wish 
becomes the soul command 
In the distance ~ the dying sun forever sleeps with you one dream obeys 







A Collaborated Poem 07.11.2015
Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam Mc Daid

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

rose-colored passion

it's raining again,
been this way for days;
swirls of graying clouds
hiding the blue of skies
and my eyes

my lips 
seem wetter
than everything else
that rises
without sun,

the river's rising again,
perhaps higher than my own ego
as i lose myself
in the pockets of current.

current, and past events
build this dam 
against what it is
that i love,

damn her
and them the same.

i lay, head down,
drowning 
in the only breath i know

your chest 
rising
and falling
between the sighs
that bridges
together
reality and dreams,

and i'm not giving up my last breath
through any of these storms
that fall from winded words,

instead, i'll keep breathing
deeper and deeper
attuned with your own breath,
as we make love, reality
from dreams

last night,
i saw a rainbow
through your eyes
and i settled myself 
deeper in your heart
long before
you ever drifted off to sleep

this morning,
your gentle touch,
the arousal
of my dreams,
becomes the sun
through rose-colored passion,
and love again blossoms
blending all that is real
from little pockets of rain.

Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2009

Details | Personification | |

Rose

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 | Year Posted 2007

Details | Sonnet | |

A Single Rose

For you, my love, I’ll be a single rose
of crimson hue, and velvet to the touch.
So warm in contrast to your fallen snows,
yet yearning for the thrill of winter's clutch.
Soft petals form a heart so firm and true,
unyielding to the tempest of your reign,
and though a cold wind nurtures doubt in you,
such purity of love I could not feign.

Dilemmas of the soul so keenly felt.
Bestow my love? or must it stay a dream?
for if I warmed your heart 'twould surely melt
and I would lose you to the flowing stream.

And so, my love, this single rose I’ll hide
and keep the love I feel for you inside.

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Years Of The Rose

Have I not heard the calling of day's gone by
or sat in careless prose and wondered why?
but years are as the rose
which are but reflections
that no one person knows-

I have sought with wonder
the diamonds in your eyes
but when the memories came
as falling rain
I couldn't help but cry
for my soul was wracked with pain-

The beauty of your heart
is always mine to keep
and knowing so much loss
each day I cannot help but weep-

But hold you close I always will
the beautiful star you are
for I know that no matter how far
each day I will love you still-


'' My verse was inspired by the lessons I have learned in this life....A canvass with so many colors, a book with so many blank pages, Let me be as the rain and nourish those I touch with my writing"

Copyright © angel Padua | Year Posted 2010

Details | Verse | |

She The Young Rose Was Set To Bloom

A Poet's Dozen II-First Date
Sponsor: Silent One

She, The Young Rose Was Set To Bloom

young rose set to bloom
dawn's light awakens my soul
beauty in red shines

Her graceful dancing brought on great applause.
I was unworthy, bad temper the cause.

As her eyes spoke to my sad, longing heart,
Crystal palaces shattered within my soul.

Angel that once inspired great hope in me,
Her singing voice kissed my soul quite divine,
In my heart, Heaven then lifted the sea,
Spirit said walk away, she is too fine,
Decades shall pass, before you find sunshine.

Date Written: December 28th, 2015 

One modern Haiku: 3 lines: Syllables 5,7,5
A couplet: 2 lines, 10-10
Free verse: 2 lines, 10-10

English Quintain: 5 lines: 
Rhyming scheme ababb
Syllables Per Line:10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables:50

4th place....

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

A rose is not just a rose...

In morning's glory forms a dew
upon petals sweet,opened bloom
previous nights fevered mist
now greet the sun's golden kiss

Symbol of love rose's flower
from deep within' feelings shower
every hour of every day
we make it happen in every way...

Copyright © jay del fierro | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Holding always warm

Dazzling golden beams 
star spangling 
when I look into your eyes
dreams enchanting magic 
Sparkling treasure gems 
through sun smiling thoughts 
Warm rays in her deep fingers 
one touching light beaming 
In your smile stands out 
A rose blossoms heart of this soul
flowers so hot amazing beautiful 
blooming embracing light 
as your angel rays dances 
outside this world with the heart
in each beat that pounds loving you 

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014

Details | Romanticism | |

Love in my veins

Your love flows through my veins
like the Nile River flows through
the sands of Eygpt.
Love flows through my veins
like rivers that break off into endless streams
and water the gardens of the green stems
of torn covered rose bushes.

In my veins, you flow, as a sparrow
flies through the blue skies in beauty.
You are the blood that flows through my veins
and later settles deep in my heart
and embraces me with a hug of intimace.

Love flows through my veins
like endless notes played by the sweetest composer
along with his private orchestra playing a lovely melody.
Rivers, streams break off and flow into lakes and oceans,
Like my veins that lead to my heart,
you are always there flowing through my veins.
Your love flows through my veins.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

A Rose with no Thorn

A Rose with No Thorn

In the Garden, the bouquet of life
There bloomed a rose whose beauty caught my eye
Incomparable is this rose’s design
Unlike the others, she is not the prickling kind

I know they say that every rose has its thorn
But here blooms the exception, of the spirit she is born
One of a kind, the rarest in form
For she is a rose with no thorn

Oh what a fragrance, so lovely and fair
A scent of sincerity sweeps through the air
A pristine beauty from the realms up above
For she is the flower primeval of love

And as I bask in her blossoms of compassion
I find I am fashioned by love that’s everlasting
And in my heart she’ll always be adorned
For she is a rose with no thorn

Though weeds, thorns and thistles have tried to choke her
The rain has wet her; the sun has even scorched her
But she’ll not wither, neither will she wilt
For she is rooted in the love that God has tilled

Amidst great turmoil, never to be foiled
Arrayed in glory that could never ever toil
One of a kind, yes the rarest in form
For she is a rose with no thorn



Copyright2008 by Kenneth J Thompson

Copyright © Kenneth J Thompson | Year Posted 2014