I walk through the glistening virgin snow
That covers the sorrow of autumn’s death
Where I find on a bush a frozen rose
Its beauty held ageless in winter’s breath
How I long to touch those petals again
Those moist velvet lips that promise such bliss
Opened in passion whispering my name
As I drift in dreams of a breathless kiss
Oh! To pluck this rose from the winter snow
And hold it closely to my aching heart
And free it from that ice so bitter cold
That now my love keeps you and me apart
But if I were to pluck this winter rose
Would all its petals fall upon the snow?
Author: Elaine George
Written: January 15, 2010
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
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.
By Andrea Dietrich
For PD's any rose will do. ....... (poems of roses contest) old only.... Poetry Contest
Has beauty given the rose the notion
That it is the jewel of the garden
The butterfly may make that connection
So the beholder's eye holds beauty then
Perhaps that is how it is predisposed
Because there is no reason to pretend
Outer beauty fades like the withered rose
And our tears may descend like falling rain
But inner beauty lies in sweet repose
That unseen beauty will always remain
Through every season and emotion
Surviving heartache, sorrow, loss and pain
The love of beauty we truly enjoy
But the beauty of love abides in joy
Thou art to me the fairest crimson rose,
A tender bloom with dawn's first colour gilt;
Yet ev'ry flow'r in mortal clime that grows,
Is here for but a time, and then does wilt.
By all I e'er held dear, I now aver,
That though a rose may wilt, yet still 'tis sweet;
I only hope a place I could secure
In fondest adoration at thy feet.
For fairness found in form and face will fail,
But that within the heart may shine undimmed;
Though nothing for youth's beauty may avail,
A heart with golden deeds may yet be rimmed.
My Juliet, in truth I do declare,
I love thee not for youthful beauty fair.
After the wild roses stopped to bloom,
I visited your backyard each afternoon.
I counted the thorns of your rose tree,
wondering if a new bud I would see…
You didn’t come and lean by the window,
combing your hair under the afterglow.
The night wind carried you to me instead,
as I pillowed my head on the root’s thread.
You left the door open on the morrow,
when a new pink rose started to grow.
Should I leave the rose – young and pure -
or Should I follow your lead –
gave to me no more than one queen
blossoming in a garden left unseen.
Rose you greet me in the dawn of ages
wondrous flower of sweet scent and beauty
the heavenly array of the oranges
vieing with yellows and reds so dainty
Rose for me you symbolize lasting peace
many swear undying love in your name
crafted by nature a true masterpiece
deemed royal your rivals you overcame
Dreamily I admire your wondrous shape
so truly perfection personified
you dominate yet too bless the landscape
it is no wonder you are glorified
Rose of luster, temptress of my senses
filling me with your lovely incenses
So many roses I saw today
On the same bed they all lay.
With roses I will dream tonight,
Pink, red, yellow and white…
If a single rose I free and smell
The garden will frenzy and yell,
I aspire to be like a bumblebee:
Invisible wings to nestle and flee.
The breeze carried a whiff adrift
Dancing within the edifices rift
On my chest I pinned four medals
Pink, red, yellow and white petals:
A single rose can guild me to Eden
Or linger on Nature’s bosom hidden
Sweet flowers of May how you do entice
lifting and filling my soul with beauty
swaying in the breeze and releasing spice
aromas that enthrall sharp and minty
Tumbling roses cover the pergola
sweet musky scent is hanging in the air
robust colours of the gladiola
poking up a most tempting derriere
Fascinated I watch it bob about
as my lover stoops pulling out the weeds
hot and sweaty he does a turnabout
holding my hand he now shows me his deeds
Beds free of weeds that able to flourish
just like our love for each other we cherish
Silently he weaves his way through nebulous skies
Traversing the night for his place in the sunshine
Beautiful planet he'd seen once upon a dream,
On his breast rests a rose of Sharon of gold streams.
The ride is rough as he must avoid shooting stars,
Attractive for a time, but mirrored dreams they are,
Their fires soon becoming extinguished, gone black
Meeting their doom in the vacuum of black holes' trap.
Such fatal end becomes a blessing in disguise
He learns he must follow a pattern for safe flight
He draws power from the sun and the earth's moon
Whose lights are constant, a sight he knows not to lose.
At long last, near the moon he finds her, his heaven
Her light turned brightest gold by the rose of Sharon.
Copyright © 06.07.11
For Francine Roberts' Sonnet contest.
Once upon a time there was a single blooming Rose.
The world rejoiced at all the beauty given her to show.
But as with every rose her time was shortly bestowed.
After, the world felt hollow, so intense did its sorrow flow.
They sought a reminder of the beacon they once did truly hold.
They found a small flower of white that in its purist form did unfold.
The thorns reminded all, that the original could never be theirs again.
But still it did impart hope, for another one, like their virtuous friend.
Eventually the flower was cultured and created into what we hold to now.
For even the present is needy of something so precious to hold some how.
And though no one remembers how the flowers’ name was earlier sown…
It still holds us tightly to the purity, hope, and beauty its known to bestow.
There are many legends that have traveled down to us thru the years.
But there are none so beautiful as the one that became the Rose so dear.
Bang spectrum of Confetti start the celebration!
Rosy majorettes clad in brick red whistle thrice,
Golden tassel batons toss and fly, greets sky!
Her comrade increase the feat heat synchronization,
Thunder cheers flood alongside adding spice.
Beginning their flamboyant rhythm and blues sound
Are black and white drum and bugle epic vibrations.
Come in well coordinated act: all nice
Loud gigantic flowered covered floats in slow motion
Meatball, the big brown bear, pop and arise,
''Catching the Big one'', orange fish rolls down,
Sweet fragrance of roses afloat around.
Yellow haired boy from ''Sea of Surprises'', drown the frown.
Tempted eyes, ears, nose and feet in joyous heights!
June 26, 2014
Originally entitled: COLOURS for the contest Colours of Shadow Hamilton placed 4th.. :)
Note: Inspired by "Tournament of Roses Parade". During New Year's Time, me and my mom views this telecasted tournament.. :) I love the creativity and the great imagination of the rose float creators..:D!!! This is held annually in California, USA sponsored by Honda. How wonderful it is if this seen live.. :)! On my readings, each year there is a theme to inspire the creators. The first ever theme was about Patriotism, this year: "Dreams come True" and next year: "Inspiring Stories".
As the last rose petal falls swiftly down
The last of the great roses of summer
What a great summer that was lived_you known
Rose had much character an affirmer
Fall approaches with sure desolation
Only bare branches with prickly thorns left
Mocking Bird nest with nesting cessation
Protected by the Rose as in a cleft
Used up_bare waiting for winter's cold breath
Not knowing what this winter chill will bring
As the petals flood onto the ground_death
Hope awaits but winter comes with its sting
Will the sap rise again coursing through vine
Revitalization __ one bud sure sign
I love our conversations day to day
I laugh at the awkwardness in the hall
I love how you are mine, my sweet blue jay
If this were a movie the snow would fall
The perfect scene that everyone desires
The paramount picture movie nights out
I love that this love does not require
Sadness and despair, the miserable pout
I want to see you as you always are
I want to laugh and share my memories
So you call to me, and I won’t be far
I want to cheer and hear your melodies
For it is a rose in any other name
I am foolish, but who am I to blame?
New found friendship in the darkest areas
But it’s not like we are from dark places
You are the light that disrupts hysteria
There’s no need to hide under fake faces
Thank you, my search for that place is finished
That place where loneliness finally dies
That place where joy is, as it should, cherished
That place where despair meets its true demise
I no longer have to travel today
To travel to that place where sadness ends
Because I have found that place, my blue jay
So from now on, what we do shall depend
Shall we travel together tomorrow
To keep fighting everlasting sorrow
What I say and do I mean completely
What I say to you I mean with honesty
But Please do not take my words so feebly
Don’t shrink in front of the face of modesty
You are marvellous, true in every way
You are graceful, so keep dancing like you
You are beautiful, so smile my blue jay
Smile and I shall be marvellous with you
Please take my words to heart, never forget
They are nothing but spectators tonight
You are the main attraction, don’t leave yet
You will rock, no need to be polite right?
You are awesome in each and every way
You are pretty no matter what they say
The Sun is leaving my room by the window
Oh, do not abandon my lips alone, a breeze
Is barely a kiss, return and lay in my bed now
Lock our lips and pay the fee of your Release
Fast, before I recall the last night and blush,
And while my house silently sleeps, remove
Your shirt and untie my gown last bow, Rush
Because I hear the coo of the rooftop’s dove,
Let me hide your face among my bosom,
if you leave a scorching mark, Do not frown
with worry, it will bud like a rose blossom
poured by joyful tears and will overgrown.
I will not look by the window, even a glimpse
My sun remains with me, love is an eclipse.
His favorite amongst flowers
The pale pink running rose
This quiet still morn in wee hours
Take Rose note__he will compose
Thinking of her as he writes love
How he ardors her petals
So soft to touch his cheek__ write of
Perfume on mind settle
Just to touch and inhale_beauty
Her beauty at day break
To steal kiss wonderful fruity
Under rose trellis_quiver_ shake
His favorite amongst flowers
Rose that gives scented showers
Upon your days, tedium has imposed,
Dull shades have tinted your point of view,
And each woman yearns the hues of a rose,
A palette that blossoms solely for you.
We, too, were buds once, so tender and small,
The world had its thorns, but petals unfurled,
A trellis we found, so stable and tall,
‘Til autumn came with its frosty upwhirl.
My friend, we both know the strength of one bloom,
When clipped to the quick it grows all the more,
The charm of your words fills hundreds of rooms,
I bestow a bouquet and shout “ENCORE!”
~ Lush Romanticas in rouged ivory ~
Gifted to you for your sweet poetry.
By Cyndi MacMillan, February 7, 2012
P.D., I really enjoyed bumping into you in the chat rooms. Your exuberance is needed here at Soup. Kooky, vibrant, honest and fierce. Yup! That’s you!
PS- the Romantica Rose is the French version of the English rose, a ‘hardy’, beautiful rose that comes back again and again… ;-)
If you can, click on the about this poem link for a photo of the Romantica.
Hope is the torch which keeps darkness at bay
a solitary beacon to show us the way
Hope is the magic that greets the new day
and should be the last thing that we give away
Hope is the dream that will come tomorrow
not a simmering mask underneath your sorrow.
Hope is the sparkle when tears fill you eyes
strengthens hellos and softens goodbyes.
So add hope to all that you have planned
cos sometimes roses do grow on sand.......
As last rose of summer opens wider
Night is drawing nigh, rose cutter in hand
The rose clipped in its best stage; placed in cider
Jar that was used up, cleaned_now it will stand
Jar of cider was enjoyed long ago
Remember that day on our honeymoon
You were so young with raven hair my beau
We found that road side stand that afternoon
Bought that jug of cider that was so cold
Refreshing after long ride around mountain
So eager for life that we would build_hold
Hold each other_life; wanting to obtain
I clip that rose_place in memory bottle
One memory revs my motor throttle
If you could accept this rose instead of gold,
It will be the first of a many-colored garden.
While the coins would be just grey and old,
loved only by an ailing and aged warden.
The richest woman on this side of heaven
will lean over the fence to pluck a daisy,
and after they plucked more than seven,
They will throw coins in delighted praise,
But gold, only gold, has no safety in here,
The ravens will fly and take to their nest
And every pine will have their fair share.
Now bring the rose closer to your chest:
The soil is fertile and with motherly care,
Paradise will be a garden blooming on west.
A gentle being, is the rose;
though its nails can be quite sharp.
The lovely flower, I suppose;
controls the human heart.
For valentines, it bleeds so red;
for mother’s, yellow sun.
All will bow their lovely heads;
once their day is done.
Their fragrance, it will mesmerize;
all those who are near.
It doesn't matter, what their size;
lovers, they draw near.
So much more regal than the rest;
the rose, is nature’s family crest,
Ya'll remember Rose that on trellis grows
How lovely, her pale pink blossoms in spring
She now has a few dead stems that show
Also some rapid growth, frame overfilling
She needed to be pruned there was no choice
It was painful process, for vinedresser
Hurting to core, in this job didn't rejoice
How it hurt Rose, dripping wounds no lesser
Why did he prune Rose this day _severely
Taking away the newly acquired green
May not know fully answer or reason clearly
Until ages past then old answers seen
He prunes us, cutting away the dead parts
Cuts new growth going in wrong way of the heart_
Flaming rose bush how do you do and (do you see)?
The distance from here to sometimes (is to near)
for exactly according to almost always. (So we)
say to God: "grant us half-smiles," (in the mirror)
above evenings white-bellied bed and (she dancing)
says to me: "God likes to giggle," (do you)?
I say: "he-he," believe me differently (romancing)
you in your world somewhere watching (fire works too)
far to see the shapes of afterwards (clearing)
in yellow puff-puffs of plus or minus (while)
tonight is gargoyling and tomorrow is (nearing)
the distant haze of almost rose smell (you smile)
And say: "look at all the crazies!" (here and there)
And that is how you do it (pretty lady) of everywhere.
'Quit! Give Up! You Are Beaten'
They Shout At Me And Plead
'There's Just Too Much Against You Now'
This Time You Cant Succeed'
And As I Start To Hang My Head
In Front Of Failure's Face
My Downward Fall Is Broken By
The Memory Of That Skating Race!
And Hope Refills My Weekend Will,
As I Recall That Scene,
For Just The Thought Of That Short Race,
Re-Energied My Being
They All Line Up So Full Of Hope,
Each Thought To Win That Race,
Or Tie For First, Or If Not That
Atleast Take Second Place
And Fathers Watched From Off Side
Each Cheering For His Son,
And Each Boy Helped To Show His Dad,
That He Would Be The One
The Whistle Blew And Off They Went,
Young Hearts And Hope Afire.
To Win And Be The Hero There,
Was Each Boy's Desire.
And One Boy In Particular,
Whose Dad Was In Crowd,
Was Running Near The Lead And Thought
'My Dad Will Be So Proud! '
But As He Speeded Down The Field,
Across A Shallow Dip,
The Little Boy Who Thought To Win,
Lost His Step And Slipped.
So Down He Fell And With Him His Hope,
He Couldn't Win It Now,
Embrassed, Sad, He Only Wished,
To Disappear Some How.
But As He Fell His Dad Stood Up,
And Showed His Anxious Face,
Which To The Boy So Clearly Said,
'Get Up And Win The Race! '
He Quickly Rose No Damage Done,
Behind A Bit, That's All-
And Ran With All His Mind And Might,
To Make Up For His Fall.
So Anxious To Restore Himself,
To Catch Up And To Win,
His Mind Went Faster Than His Legs,
He Slipped And Fell Again.
He Wished Then He Had Quit Before,
With Only One Disgrace.
I'm Hopeless As A Runner Now,
I Shouldn't Try To Race.
But In The Laughing Crowd He Searched,
And Found His Father's Face,
That Steady Look, He Said Again,
'Get Up And Win The Race! '
Exerting Everything He Had,
He Gained Yards Eight To Ten,
But Trying So Hard To Catch The Lead,
He Slipped And Fell Again.
'Get Up.', An Echo Sounded Low.
'Get Up And Take Your Place'
You Were Not Meant For Failure Here.
'Get Up And Win The Race! '
They Cheered The Winning Runner,
As He Crossed Line First Place,
Head High And Proud And Happy
No Falling No Disgrace.
But When The Fallen Youngster,
Crossed The Line Last Place,
The Crowd Gave Him The Greater Cheer
For Finishing The Race.
And To His Dad He Sadly Say,
'I Did Not Do Too Well'
'To Me You Won', His Father Said
'You Rose Each Time You Fell'.
For All Of Life Is Like That Race,
With Ups And Downs And All,
And All Of You Have To Do To Win,
Is Rise Each Time, You Fall.
As He looked down from the heavens above,
He created spring and prepared the earth.
He decided Eden needed more love
and made this the season for a new birth.
A perfect garden but man was alone.
One night He caused man to dream in his sleep
and opened his breast removing a bone.
A flower was planted for man to keep.
I am that mate, I’m man's flowering rose.
I was planted in spring in hallowed ground.
Created in beauty the gardener knows,
the flower of man, to him I am bound.
No longer will man be alone to toil.
Planted in spring in God’s loving soil.
Now is the season I have come to bloom.
Thriving in summer, the gardener’s plan.
Born as a flower within the earth’s womb.
A beautiful rose created for man.
His gift of a flower since time began.
Companion for life, a loving soul mate.
Blossoming strength in the summertime span.
Flowering beauty at the garden gate.
I am that rose, such a wonderful fate.
Strength in beauty, I’m the gardener’s rose.
Created for man so we can relate.
I stand behind him where the garden grows.
Grace in beauty and feminine power.
Standing with him, I’m the summer flower.
Fall is the season of power and might.
A soul mate I was created to be
and placed in the garden at God’s decree.
Behind my man in the gardener’s sight,
a feminine rose is the male delight.
As I stand next to him, for all to see,
my mystical power that set him free
and the gardener smiled for it was right.
Fall is the season I start to relax,
the breeze is provoking my rest and sleep.
It is the season, our work is now done.
Together all year we learned all the facts
and memories that we, forever keep.
For we have been blessed together as one.
Winter lends a blanket of snow
here in the place where gardens grow.
Blossomed all year beautifully dressed.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.
The gardener knows the reason,
my beauty doubles next season.
I gave him strength, held to my breast.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.
My man smiles because of the rose.
A winter sleep is just repose.
A rose for a man, passed the test.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.
Winter lends a blanket of snow.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.
Spring: Shakespearian sonnet
Summer: Spenserian sonnet
Fall: Petrarchan sonnet
Winter: Kyrielle sonnet
A story told in roses, red and white;
Each fragrant bloom revealing a new page,
Of destined love, a battle against fate.
The maiden dancing in the lunar light,
Her spirit free from any earthly cage,
She is the rose of deepest velvet red.
Yet petals soft and purest white; her mate,
The rose of innocent dreams of delight,
That calls out in whispers of love and sage,
Such mysteries no man could ev’r relate
Unspoken words yet know all things are said
As nightingale sweetly sings romance’s tune,
No rose may know the path on which it’s led
But journeys on by the light of the moon.
My rose unfurled, withered in my eyes,
And thorns endured where dainty petals aught;
On scented breath exhaled beguiling lies,
And morning weeps, unblushed, for love is naught.
Farewell to lusty shadows creaking bed,
And crackling hearth before which lovers laid,
And belvedere where innocence was bled,
While moonlight specters pranced in flowered glade.
Adieu my rose, forgive my early spring;
Between my youthful urges lay thee pressed,
And not a single sympathetic string;
Do angels chord within my sorrowed breast.
My garden dampens neath a summer’s rain,
Yet never will I bloom a rose again.
THE ROSE KENNEDY MOTHER SONNET
A rose was plucked from many of the day
and taken to our Lord, by His request,
who keeps it so it will not wilt away
and now it shines the rose of our Lord's breast.
'Twas just a very simple rose to grow
but light complexes colors visually
and all those colors make up all we know,
to turn it into what our eyes can see.
And what a joy she was, as if a song,
until the Master called for our dear Rose,
and now we ask, how can we get along
without this joy of life that seldom grows?
Such roses do not grow just ev'rywhere
but when they do, we see a mother there.
The rose must grow to taunt all other joy's,
with it's beauty can humility be,
such triats never to be equally poised,
for beauty sets those ill-composed thoughts free,
To undrape the skin of this lovly thing,
in the hopes to find a fairer essence,
beneathe this rose a true purpose to sing,
It must be that I'm in heavens presence,
to find the rose beautiful inward out,
to find the rose that soothes the hearts of men,
but that this rose exists I am in doubt,
for this would be a rose bereft of sin,
still I search for this elusive flower,
that my heart will be soothed in my hours,
As Spring so softly yields to warmer days
The first rose of summer shall bloom alone,
Her loveliness sets the garden ablaze.
The rip’ning world takes on a brighter hue
As queen of May, she dances round the stone
Beneath the cloudless skies of vibrant blue
And all I can do is sit here and gaze
On beauty found within a single rose.
I see the moistened pearl of morning dew
Upon her red petals it takes repose
And I can’t help my dreams that drift to you
For love had come so gently on wind’s blown
My eyes have seen so that my heart now knows
The first rose of summer shall bloom alone
What wondrous sight hath met my eyes this morn?
A perfect rose my garden hath just borne
Of colour red that’s ne’er been seen before
Perhaps it’s just a dream and nothing more
But wait, I never bade a rose grow there
What miracle of life, with form so fair
Could find its way into that very place
Where only yesterday I saw your face?
I tremble at the thought of stepping out
To see what fortune’s hand hast cast about
My heart behaves as though it were sixteen
For, then I see you rise out of that scene
No colour in the world can quite compare
To those that form your flaming auburn hair ~
When smelling a Rose of beauty and life
it’s life soon to end it’s consumed by fear,
With perfume and thorns it will grow in strife
But with death upon, there’s not but a tear.
When you silently wish for life and love,
a Rose! in spring’s sweet bloom, brings this with joy
but it’s frozen by winter’s crystal dove
and Flies away unremembered like toys.
A Rose is Life singing a perfect song
it’s melody like snow gently falling.
A Rose is Death, for fear’s mercy is wrong
if it would take it’s life at Death’s calling.
But you know the truth of a rose’s life
it will be stolen as if by a knife.