Tis the rose that wants to live
That rails against the frost,
Tightly closed, the petals warm
The autumn heart that summer lost.
The dew that drips from rose to leaf
Like tears from cheek to breast,
Once was cold, now shimmers warm
To earn, at last, its' rest.
The blackened bud, once struck with cold
Appears to others dead,
But burns within, a passionate soul,
And heart of bright and crimson red.
And bursting forth it cannot hide
The will to live within,
Its' bold and subtle softness tells
Persistent hearts can win.
This quatrain poem was written twenty plus years ago and was inspired by a true frost bitten rose at a truly emotional time and its story and message is real and still lives. I brought the rose in and put it in a vase and it opened to be a perfect rose and like the rose love did the same.
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!
Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
Mary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves
She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day
With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast
Sailing victorious and proud - her billowing white sails were cast
The calm, liquid waters of the sea flowed quietly purple for now-
Unaware of the coming storm that would beat furious against her bow
Her alabaster sails whipped violent and furious in the oncoming storm
Impending doom was yelling its cries while the seamen went unwarned
Down below, inside their cabins the seamen peacefully slept
Wrapped in the secure watch that their gallant captain kept
The oceans black, boiling waves beat savage against starboard and port
As Captain Noe standing fearless - at first quake, did not the storm report
The old wooden beams of the Mary Rose began to restlessly moan and creak
While the blackened roaring, rolling waves beat furious against her feet
Her alabaster sails rose proud- beating mighty against wailing squalls and gusts
While deep inside the bow in bunks, the sleeping seamen thrust
Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out
When the seamen heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt
“Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared
“Alive! Awake… all ye’ seaman come quickly up on board”!
The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear
While the brave captain fought - loyal seaman brought up the rear
They courageously fought together - not silenced by the eye of death
As the sea raged violently against them with its brutal, menacing breath
To save their mighty Mary Rose, they’d dip their very souls in blood
Leaving themselves merciless against this drunken, mighty flood
With plank and bow standing fierce between them and their fate
The raging ocean’s fierce, blackened waves - the sea they could not hate
The morning brought the warming sun which rose broad above the waves
The winds had tamed their violent voice against captain and seaman brave
With unshakable courage and seaman’s wit not once were spirits broke
Each cheered his mate and captain strong as they fought with steady stroke
Their peril fought in days of danger and night filled with pain
Their manly courage did not wane - their fight was not in vain
For all the courageous seamen and their brave Captain Noe
Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
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
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
*Entry for Gail's "Inspirational" poems contest
by Carolyn Devonshire
I can't believe the wonderful contest idea I have been missing out on since I took my brief break from Soup this past weekend. I came back to find many posts of Carolyn Devonshire's most amazing work. And so it was my goal tonight before logging off, to look through my list of favorites and see which one I would choose to showcase.
Well, there were at least five of her poems that I just loved: "A Forgotten Box," the senryu set "Candlelight Passion," an adorable personification of flowers called "Flower Prom," the profound poem of imagination called "Unicorn," and last but not least, the one shown above here, "Winter's Rose." I decided on this one because earlier today in talking with Carolyn, she expressed to me that "Winter's Rose" happened to be one of her personal favorites. I was so pleased to discover that it was also one I had chosen to put into MY favorites list about a month ago!
"Winter's Rose" is a poet's look into her own soul. And she uses metaphors of the seasons, something I personally enjoy doing in my own poetry. I love when Carolyn writes this way and I agree with her, this is one of her very best free verse poems ever! I hope Carolyn will continue with her restless spirit well into the deepest of winters. She is an awesome friend and poet! (Carolyn, may your memories be happy ones always. And know that you have many friends here rooting for you. Luv, Andrea )
May we always address dis-complacency, the vacancy,
And remove all opposes, to our roses,............................................................(Acts 18:4-6)
Here at Poetry Soup, completing love’s 100% loop, in our soup,
For an authentic rose, from God it grows, always knows,
It’s own heart, from which it grows,
For authenticity’s, dis-complacency
Displaces a rose, from which it grows, then only heaven knows,
A rose, from which it grows,
Then it tis the mind’s dis-complacency, from it’s own heart,
Then does it’s part, hid from it’s own heart,
Redresses the rose, then rose begin an oppose,
To it’s heart, from which it grows,......................................(II Thes.2:3-5) Ego mind persona
A displaced rose, is still a rose,
By it’s own authenticity, it still grows,
As the heart, still does it’s part, from the very start,
For it tis the mind, lost in it’s wilderness time, must realign,
With beginning of time, love of heart’s kind,
For it tis, redressing of mind, with heart’s beginning of time,
That undresses the rose, from it’s dress of the oppose,..........................(II Timothy 2:24-25)
For a rose, is still a rose, from whence it grows,
Not death’s oppose,
Like a tree, grows from inside itself, you see,
From an higher intelligence, to be,
That being, from it’s own heart, it’s love of start,
Like a dog, is a dog, not a hog,
Tis it’s central intelligent being, does it’s seeing,
Not it’s bureaucracy of fleas, hidden in it’s leaves,
Nor living in the hairs of your scalp,- Yeeeeeap!
Taking their ease, if you please,
As a nation, we have bureaucratic fleas, living in our leaves,
The fleas are in control, should a flea be so bold,
To tell the truth, tis growing old,
Should a parasite raise our taxes, should the parasites waxes us,
In our town hall meetings, try to ignore our pleadings,
And begin their elite minded proceedings,
By saying we are criminals, and it they are the emeralds,
Tis our freedom of speech, being bleached, under siege,
Should not even a dog own his own fleas, guys pleeeeease!
Our government is not a party to our rose,
They are opposed, to our rose, the fleas that grows,
From the power of our rose,
In our leaves, if you please,
A parasite, out of sight, must take flight,
Tis their complexity, the hex, no flex, too complex,
Will bring our nation to it’s knees, so please,
Use your voice, of choice,
Our fleas have become to numerous, to humor us,
Not a plus, but like a rust,
Our fleas in charge of us!!
Image if one will, a field where paper roses grow,
Each color an emotion, it's variations symbolic to
Feeling felt, and yet expressed.
Compositions of love letters, shaped into delicate
Blossoms, growing or dieing within the fragile human
A unique species of floral design, enchanting the
Raw essences of it's creator, with a mystical fragrance
All it's own.
Passions spice crimson red, romantic sensuality
A white splicing with reds undertow.
Blues calming peaceful shades of hew,
and a navy's hardened edge exposing devotions
Everlasting love in beauty's open petals of the divine.
A golden sunflower opens wide, a visions friendship flower,
Seeds cast to the fertile soil beneath the kindred of humanity.
Compassion's evergreen bouquet,
So many multitudes of description,
It is impossible to describe all,
For change is the one constant rhythm
Of life itself.
Death's black rose, a crumbling love letter that melts away,
A disintegration of thoughts emotion unto the river of dust.
Not completely forgotten,
Living only by memory's remembrances,
Of past echoes,
Left alive in shadows contrasting shades faded by time.
Fragile is the human heart, made of crystal glass,
Shattering easily to the touch, if handled to roughly.
But even more delicate are the emotions held within,
A prism of reflections.
It's light leads to the inner garden of the spiritual soul,
Where the paper roses do grow.
Imaginations field of wonders, thoughts glorious
Bouquet of possibilities to draw from.
A limitless expressive well, for the poet's ink pen,
Lightly dripped onto the empty page of white,
To write upon, vivid are these roses to the poetic heart.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
The light aglow does shine, within the wagon train,
Many voices sing, to the tambourine's enchanted beat,
Playing along the fire warmth, of their encampment.
All together their rations share, with one another, breaking
Bread with an evening prayer, over warm cider, to keep the
Nights chill away.
These are the lost people, searching for a homeland beyond
The horizons hidden path.
Can you hear the echoing sounds, of the cricking wagon wheels,
Or the wind chimes, blowing in the timeless mountain breeze.
The last wagon is the smallest, it contains a precious prize,
Of the Gypsies,
She is the magi woman, the heart of her people.
Fragile and bent with the curl hand of age, yet wise beyond
Her years on earth, a wondrous creature at one with nature.
Many winters passage have her eyes seen,
And felt the springs warming breath against
The raw flesh has she experienced.
Blessings birthing, and sorrows burials, has this
Lone woman been present for, the tribes
Precious Magi, named Mystic Rose.
Lean does she, against a willow staff,
Walking generations ancestral path,
Remembering a cultural heritage, past
Down by mother unto daughter.
Within this living monument of memories,
Beats the heart of a wondering people,
Whom have cried an ocean of tears,
Yet do they not realize they are freedoms
Children, knowing a liberation beyond
Pains and suffrage ultimate dream, to be
Free without boundaries limitations.
But she knows, the Mystic Rose Magi,
So see guides them along the well hidden
Venues, to the valleys evergreen, keeping
Them safe from apprehensions heavy yoke.
For they are the gypsies tribes and she
Is their precious gift the sacred Magi,
Named the Mystic Rose.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Someone special sent me a rose today
Each rose was a word that touched me in many ways
It told me a story that showed me the most beautiful scene
Of faces of beauty and places i have never been
The words were whispers that called to me
And for that moment from my sorrows i was free
Each rose that fell told me that all beauty comes and goes
But to never forget their is always a new bloom of a rose
For if all this beauty can only be placed in your mind
You have not let all your true inner beauty shine
So to this special someone i thank you so much
For this rose you sent me my heart it truly touched
unfurling petals wide
crystal adorn display table
I do not know?
As Expression of True Love , most every man shall show his love this way
unto a woman, by giving her a beautiful red rose. There are roses of many colors.
But there is only one rose that holds the “Radiant light of love” this color stands
alone. The “Beautiful Red Rose” That is meant for love between two, man and
The beautiful red rose, with its, slightly intertwining soft petals, within folds. The
softness beholds such a glow of radiant love. Within the petals are interconnecting
perfectly within each twining, of its lining, enabling its soft radiant ruby color to
shine within light. The smell of the delicate rose beholds within a beautiful fragrance
through each one of the soft rosy petals lining that lingers through the air.
As each petal of the rose is enriched with its radiant red color within its
intertwining curves, connecting underneath laced around the radiant red petals is
deep emerald green leaves, attaching from within a long dark green stem.
The “Beautiful Red Rose” is given on or before Valentine’s Day, by a man unto a
woman, in hopes to enriches a love, between them both, man and woman
God's Beautiful Delicate Design Of His Divine Love Shown...
"The Beautiful Red Rose"
Gods' Love Is More Everlasting than this...
Come Believe in Jesus... Receive Gods' Divine Love of Grace given..Eternal Life...