R-ose- the beauty and blush of dawn
O-lfactory senses, it tickles and teases
S-weet scent, it gives off to the pristine air
E-arly spring’s late gift, the cynosure of all eyes!
Written for the prompt Rose Moon 15 - 25 words set by Poets Island via Instagram
Eclipsed hips part, unearthing
a rose moon in bloom,
opal sighs glimmer,
ruby heat spills, sitting
bodies ablaze in molten embrace.
FADED ROSE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
longer days and nights
alone with my thoughts
faded rose
I Am Rose. Lyrics By John Gondolf
When lilly kisses rose
and lilly I did know
and trees I thought
grew very deep
and lived
within the forest.
And green
the hay is sweet
and brown
dry moss cries
why.
And lillies white
remind the sky
blue cotton
clouds they swirl.
There grew the two.
so dear
most thought.
Short breath
two centered
scents.
And how
before
them both
I stood
once near
their hearts
too far.
And when
I know
how
roses grow
and pressed
so hard
was I.
And cups
of milk
I loaned to
them
cinnamon
and spice.
Sugar sweets
they made
from them
and
now to know
both why.
While
lilly bridged
sweet roses
bank as
water rushes
by.
if
love
be
this
white cloud
rose
that
open
and
close
i
shall
cleave
thy
heart
for
thee
this
white
cloud rose
dew drops adorning
the awakening roses
~ a morning present
my field blooms again
roses smile across the garth~
summer comes once more
Roses never smelled wilt quicker,
For the roses cry and since tears are salt water,
And salt dehydrates, the roses shrivel.
In addition, the whole plant might rebel against life
all because no one stopped and smelled the roses...
So if you ever spot a rose bush make a beeline for it
And sniff every single blossom.
Smiles of roses in our garden wither,
As the wings of our love mid-air dither,
Our songs are sung without their melody,
We live our lives in black and white,
Our love's colours stolen by the rainbow,
With our cloudy skies missing the stars' glow,
Rather our lean cheeks bear the pool of tears,
Enough to form two times the Pacific.
Though the petals of our roses are dry,
Our favours are like showers from the sky,
So our love can bloom like roses again,
Our hearts are the loam for love's tender roots.
Let's wait for the rain showers once again,
For bees to dance on roses in the rain,
And our hearts shall swim in love's flooding brook,
So as to bring back joy to our garden.
Me and my love, are like two roses, we love each other so much, that we grew together, side by side.
We choose to be red, for our love is so strong, like the blood of life, we live in each other’s arms, feeling each other all through life.
We smell the same, like the sweetest scent that has ever been found.
Just the touch of our love, can make us feel like we are in heaven mist.
My rose is here in my hand; it smells so sweet it makes me have feeling of loving endlessly.
My rose is red like my blood, reminding me of life and its endless cycle of love.
Like a kiss from nature, our bond makes us feel amazingly.
My rose blooms beautifully and comes back every year, to make me smile again and again.
Lifting prayers to God, for all the love.
Let the flowers grow around Queen Anne’s lace,
As vanilla clouds simulate snowflake motifs.
This Wintering in Spring, amidst green leaves.
A red velvet garden of thorns and grace.
Let the flowers grow, strong; popped-button-proud;
Bright friends of sun’s bolster - deep ruby lips;
Rainshower-couture, like painted nail tips.
Deep, bountiful presence - silent, but loud.
Let the flowers grow, suddenly chosen
To be gathered in a wedding bouquet;
Or one by one, fragrant stems kissed on broadway.
Still, most remain, in season, unbroken.
As our attention softens, bliss beats rise,
from a centreless fulcrum at our core,
ego recedes, we cease to weigh and size,
as God’s blessings continue to in-pour,
of which our vibrant presence keeps no score.
Dwelling in the heart we slowly evolve,
in surrender, with no problems to solve,
for we have entrusted God with life’s task,
thus we stand still as illusions revolve,
witnessed as in divine light we so bask.
Did you hear about the rose
that bloomed in Harlem-
through concrete cracks, through chaos,
through prayers gone thin in steam?
A winter rose
shouldn’t bloom in this blaze-
but you, baby girl, unfold anyway.
Concrete beneath you,
sirens above,
a million ghosts whispering tough love.
You glide past bodegas and busted swings,
past aunties hollering from painted stoops,
past brothers pacing—palms tight with truth.
I watch your curls bounce down One-One-Four,
your laugh a lavender miracle,
soft, sure,
still surviving-
thriving-
in a garden that forgets to welcome
delicate things.
Still, I worry-
that the city might carve its name
into your softness
before you know
you are sacred.
That the sidewalk might swallow you
before you burst.
But Wynter,
you are no damsel,
no flower waiting for rescue.
You are named for frost,
raised in fire,
rooted in rhythms older than this street.
You rise with sunlight,
spin storms into dance,
and grow wild-
like you’ve always known
you could.
Here we are
just him and I
beneath a tell-tale sky of high.
I
hanging on
like a rose on a trellis,
in a garden of love !
He
like a lattice
sure and steady.
Worship dreams of valor
everything else is
just a paler shade of
blue...
Here we are
the open sky and I
and the One who seeded me
like a rose in a garden
of pure perfection!
Specific Types of Rose Poems
Read wonderful rose poetry on the following sub-topics:
beautiful, black, death, for her, for him, funeral, life, love, red, rhyme, romantic, sad, white, woman
and more.
Definition | What is Rose in Poetry?