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Metaphor Rose Poems | Metaphor Poems About Rose

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

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Details | Rhyme | |

A Rose In The Rain

A Rose In The Rain One might question when they see a flower in the rain Will that flower begin to wilt on the ground on which it remains? Not a rose, a rose is a sign of strength and beauty within For its petals were created of thick and toughened skin If you do happen to see petals of a rose flying through a breeze It is because it chose for its journey to no longer be there Instead, it shall exist in a rebirth within a different place and atmosphere Thus never drowning in a rain that only quenches its eternal seed A rose in the rain will never wilt against puddles from the sky It will not fall and surrender to reflections of when it will die It will expand its petals to reach the raindrops within their needing thirst That will keep a remnant of its beautiful existence here, upon the earth.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Red Roses Fade To Black

Red velvet petals, only I, seduce,
With hidden danger under the disguise,
My fingers feeling shyly, I reduce,
Thorns sharpen, ready, waiting the unwise.

Before me, bleeding poison, I assume,
This flower withered, shriveled the entire,
A dark extracted substance, the perfume,
No beauty, only sorrow, I admire.

Withdrawn I wept lamenting the depart,
A rosebud, crimson, youthful, I erased,
A lifeless flower, never I impart,
nor taken with affection, I embraced.







Written by Kelly Deschler  October 23rd, 2014





Details | Free verse | |

Oh sweet rose

Beautiful rose
covered in 
your petal finery
sweet silken
satin soft feelings
singing in praise
touching deeply inside

Gentle heart 
of sweetness
tenderness flows
from your sweet
scenting aroma
floats inside 
the scent

Heavenly emotions
enchanting beauty
looking amazing
red in passion
hot soft whispering 
pink blushing
orange warm
as the sun beams glow

Dressed in white
you crown angels
petals softly 
Whispers flow
on scented air
words inside 
I love you

Kissing and hugging
my love deeply darling
surrendering to you
without doubt
purest rose

I trust 
from the petals
into my heart
a crowning jewel
you are queen
amongst flowers 
amazingly baby


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


Details | Rhyme | |

Red Roses

Their petals are falling as their colors change
It wasn’t this way before but is it strange?
These roses are dying in delicate sweet sorrow
Will their love shed too? Or will it see tomorrow?
Petals and love falling slow like soft snowflakes
A little change in season is all it takes,
But will these roses bloom again in a new morn?
Will their love come back to greatly adorn?

Will their beauty be gone forever once it fades away?
Or will it come back to make everything okay?
For what will the roses be worth if their beauty dies forever?
Will the image and value from them permanently sever?
Will the light in their eyes suddenly become dark?
As their splendor and significance steadily grow stark? 
Or will they rise like light at the beginning of dawn?
And be reborn more beautiful than a swan?



Details | Tanka | |

'Being bipolar is like a rose'

Being bipolar
is like a rose born missing
some of its petals,--
its color is more vibrant
than all the other roses'!

It may never be
part of a "perfect" bouquet,--
but its rich pigment
can be a precious paint for
Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa."

Alas, it may not
attract the most "honeybees"
in the wilds of life,--
but its petals can be crushed
to make the finest perfumes.

Being bipolar
is like a rose born missing
some of its petals,--
its bouquet is more fragrant
than all the other roses'!


Details | Rhyme | |

Every Rose Has Its Thorn

Every rose has its thorn,
Every person that's born
Is both thorny and sweet as perfume.
So are some when they grow,
As you likely may know,
Naught but thorns, or forever in bloom.

For the bush clad in thorns
The kind gardener mourns,
Yet he cares for them just like the rest;
But the roses that grow
He replants in a row
So the people that walk by are blessed.

If each deed that you do
In a rose garden grew,
Would your branches be roses or thorns?
Would you be on display
Or be hidden away
In the shade of the blackberry thorns?

Would you be but a shrub
That the passersby snub,
Or a rosebush admired by all?
Growing thorn after thorn
Will but heighten the scorn,
But a rosebud is lovely, tho' small.


Details | Rhyme | |

The rose

A caterpillar ran along
my bedroom floor and rested there
my kitty cat mewed it a song 
and up it sent a yearning stare

I picked it up, the crawling thing 
all green and wobbly and naive
"my thorns beware because they sting"
I said and paused fearing he'd leave.

The kitty looked up from below
and shook my stem to make him fall
but he held fast and she lay low
then shivered as she heard me call:

"Darling," I said, "don't be so grim,
my rosy perfume is for you
as much as for your brother, dream,
                                              for cats and worms I'll be a rose
prickly and motherly and true."



Details | Quatrain | |

The rose that grew from concrete

Many a mind hurries past
the gripping splendour
in search of beauty, not to last,
while continuing in rejection of grandeur.

I look as the moments pass
at the wounded walkway.
The sand flows through the hourglass
and time conforms to seconds and seconds to day.

There, in the heart of pain,
at the crack of dawn
grows through the mundane,
purity, life’s mystery in an image drawn

Red bursts open in colours array
but expectation it defied
as time had not intended bloom ‘till the following day
and still nature’s scarlet tears are cried.

Dusk was meant to encompass
the brooding gem in the snows
but the bud unfolded in its stubbornness
and yet not its pedals froze.

I suppose the dark of night
and the bitterness of day
could not smite 
what would have its own way.

The bud grew beautifully in strength
and blossomed in wisdom,
knowledgeable in great length,
yet its leaves forbade a future grim.

Somehow it lacked endurance
and what blind humanity refused to meet
became the trampling of our innocence:
the rose that grew from concrete.


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Epyllion | |

EMPOWERING INNOCENCE

written 21st June 2013


A 'single'.. rose grows with purity, into a field, en-fenced
 from that 'moment' it buds, watch...as its passion, and grace.. intertwine
It begins to bloom, with such confidence
 showing off.. its elegance, with 'complete' dominance
For you are left... 'totally' unaware of an, 'entire' field of daisies, swaying.... such poetry
 such passion, and grace.. still exists in the heart, of humanity
The worlds future... 'completely' relies on 'peace' to become heard
 but how far has...man let it go, our hearts hold hope, for the same entity
Peace, love and harmony
 for those "who" choose to believe
Jesus freed, the curse we received by 'Adam' and 'Eve'
 they have found, love and peace
Taking it upon themselves, they help... the next man, to be 'free'
 within God's own time, we 'will' see, heaven on earth
For it is 'still' a gift... we all receive, at the hour of our birth
 


Details | Free verse | |

The moon rose

They say that I’m a myth, a creature set on vengeance, and my battle cries are carried by the wolves… 
I am none of these. I am the blade that scrapes away the scorch of day.

My hair, black as night, its length every inch the strength that ravishes my tall body and thick as fear. 
My skin, white from the blood of the moon that consecrated me to destiny and carrying aspiration’s gems.
My eyes, ocean’s azure from the depths of pain that nature has wrought and bore, and clear as truth.
My armor, charred charcoal by the flames of the sun to purify a silver heart and impenetrable as diamond.

Given a bow and arrow and a path to follow, I set out at dark, covering the earth, 
protecting the innocent, preserving morality in human hearts, opposing injustice.

Those who refuse to yield their power over the weak shall know fear and trembling, their world shall be tormented by storms. 
Those who gaze into my eyes, dream of glory, yet it will elude them, as will contentment. 
Those who curse my cause shall live in illusion, never discerning reality from visions.
Those who listen to this siren of dusk, shall be mesmerized… hypnotized by it.

The moon chooses whom to save, and my touch heals them. 
Everywhere I go, I set not my feet on concrete, but on deserts, valleys and oceans.
Nature follows in my every step, rises at my command, defends my hindsight and covers my slumbering.

I am Aygül, daughter of night, mother of thunder, enchantress of hearts, empress of justice and rose of the moon.


Details | Free verse | |

My Rose

My rose, while growing in a garden not my own, is mine all the same
Do not my eyes smile at her beauty and lose themselves in her scent?
Do not my fingers tremble with anticipation just to touch her silky skin?
While there may be pain when I hold her in my strong embrace
It compares not to the loss I feel when at last her I release
Others may measure her beauty and pen such odes to last in infamy
Yet words can never paint her essence, or do poetic justice to her true loveliness
My Rose, my perfect one will grow always in my heart for it is, and will remain her own.

~Christopher Thor Britt


Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | Rhyme | |

The Bourgeois and the Spinning Wheel

In a room filled with a solitary red hue
The bourgeois spins a wheel
With no destination, nor need
She will spin until her brittle Hands bleed
Just to satisfy her ennui and artifice
But she does not see - the rien I see
The monster approaching her empty dreams

Spinning still - she does not know
The insomniac rose will begin to grow
The thorn of clandestine and ebony
Ostracized for he began to realize
What lies in nonsense is decadence
Which sparks interest
Who's lover is a dadaist
But his story is over now
As Seth lead the way
A poet dies in dismay

The thorn as she spun penetrated
A distraction and a lack of action
She knew the temptation for she so loved the sensation
Of crass, rebellious - ways 
The thought laid it's seed
In her Gaulish mind it breeds
She has no other need and no regrets
So she proceeds and the smile lets
With full intention and desire
Caring none of her fate that will transpire 
She presses her finger on the thorn 
So now she bleeds knowingly
she did not recede


Details | I do not know? | |

A flower started to wander

A flower started to wander,
Not Far from her homeland.
 
Earlier, she laid on my hand,
I recall her scented existence.
 
Then she came to my lips,
never nature tasted as sweet.
 
Before our eyes could meet,
The rose rested on your heart.
 
And now I cannot foretell,
If the blush masking your face,
Is the rose remaining trace
Or our love fresh blooming.   


Details | Romanticism | |

To a Red Rose

As I wake to a sunny day,
a crisp and cool day, I may say;
I dress and go to the garden-
ad I gaze upon the beauty,
I see a beautiful gift sent to me-
you my dear, swing thing;
sent down on angel's graceful wings,
to a lovely tune that a nightingale sings-
Yes you my red rose.
You the one who makes my heart sing.

To a red rose,
my favorite of them all,
as I walk in the meadow of love,
no other flower compares to your own
beauty and color;
so pure and lovely
I shed a tear for you
my red, red rose;
so beautiful-
I love you.

.12.22.2013


Details | Rhyme | |

The Unusual Fragrance

The unusual fragrance looms above my room, 
Its owner not yet known, 
Its purpose still a mystery I assume 
Sweeter than any other fragrance I ever own, 

Its mood is ataraxia, 
Cold soothing scent, texture so smooth, 
Like dying in a peaceful euthanasia, 
I have it trapped in a booth, 

Smells like angels on a spring break, 
Dancing gloriously in the water fall, 
With a rattling feeling like an earth quake, 
Its particles bouncing from wall to wall, 

Clogged in my mind is a fog of disconcert, 
As I battle my feeling to a perfect stranger, 
The feeling of unrest causes discomfort, 
As the unusual fragrance puts my heart in danger,


Details | Rhyme | |

Love Blossom

My love is fragile but alive, 
Like a newly budding flower 

Longing for your warm touch 
Like a soft springtime shower

Where I will colorfully blossom, 
Pedals stretching out to you wide 
Fragrantly releasing its emotion 
Held deep inside  

It will be prime for the picking 
A bountiful harvest you could reap 
A succulent gift of pure love 
And forever yours to keep 

It’s your magical life giving light 
That’s all it will need 
Or it will shrivel and die 
Like a lonely forgotten weed.   


Details | I do not know? | |

boungiorno

hello! hey! boungiorno! what is the date?/
this world of dimensions created duality/
no letters/ no words/ are enough to express/
someone like you/ in reality/

i filled all your emptines/ MY still quiet bay/
as Jhon opened world in his Yoko/
you searched perfect princes/ looked for "right him"/
now at only one overman looking/

i swear/ i will hold you/ as much as i can/
would become all the axes/ and outer space/
voice is speared by the screaming wind/
falling down/ flakes to your place/

going crazy just seeing your knees/
don't regret anything/ my Benito/
unbelievable/ perfect/ unbearable/
you whisper/ "la comedia e finita"//


Details | Than-Bauk | |

Mighty Red Rose

“Mighty Red Rose”                Than-Bauk Poem

Mighty Red Rose
Tightly  close spikes
Right pose to fight

Written by Dr Ko Ko Thein (a) Dr Martin Chan
Salt Lake City


Details | I do not know? | |

Yellow Roses

    Never accept a yellow rose,
For it's the symbol of love's jealousy.
Soon I'll envy every young man
Blessed to be found in your company.
    If you only knew how long
I've held you in my highest esteem;
While wishing for other circumstances
in which I, to you, would closer be.
     My yellow roses are unseen--
As invisible as what might have been...
     If you only knew how much
Regret will fly with me abroad,
And how much sorrow I'll feel from your absence,
Because I chose a distant road.


Details | Free verse | |

Don't Forget to Bow

There is a subway with
adrenaline rails
leading to euphoria's
threshold--

Larvae ascend from their pit,
Monarchs from mouth,
landing
re-nectaring withered roses.

Energy recycles its
transference... 
roses bud,
petals fall,
stems chase sun.

The shadow whispers
for rose to see
Itself
open up full blossom.
...

Vocal delivery before and after-
adrenaline rails leading to
euphoria's threshold,
energy's transference
recycled... 
Don't forget to bow!