Old Rose

Doth if not thrill thee, Poet, Dead and dust through thy art, To feel how I press thy singing Close to my heart? You tell of a forlorn maiden So much out of time, Diminish stance, witless mind Reft, with thy Rhyme. Alas, it is so simple to dictate With prerogative quill of pose, Upon life’s inflexibilities Cast upon a wretched ‘Old Rose’ © Harry J Horsman 2011

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Sara Kendrick

Date: 3/6/2023 3:02:00 AM

I enjoyed reading this one. I have been reading some prose in which the authors are using poetic techniques and it is some really good writing. Thanks for sharing this one and for for dropping by my page. soupmail waits. Sara

Joe Maverick

Date: 1/3/2012 1:40:00 PM

I have enjoyed this Harry..) and would like to wish you a happy new year.....

Lisa Cooper

Date: 11/23/2011 4:12:00 PM

lovely my favorite type of poem written in old English.

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 11/22/2011 12:20:00 AM

Sounds like a poem from another place and time, Harry. How art thou, kind sir? Long time, no see!

Doris Culverhouse

Date: 11/18/2011 8:24:00 PM

I read a omment of yours from a while back and you ssid you are not beautiful about your self.....I think that we give boys a bad wrap cause my son is beautiful tome....I try not to say so much to him but he looks alot like I did when I was young....chubby cheeks and freckles. smooth skin....wish my skin was that beautiful. hehe

Carolyn Devonshire

Date: 11/18/2011 6:47:00 PM

It's almost frightening how much I can relate to this, Harry. Your description of "Old Rose" is very intriguing. If this is for one of the contests (I can't keep up with them), I wish you success! Have a great weekend. Love, Carolyn

Elizabeth Wesley

Date: 11/17/2011 7:35:00 AM

Beautiful thought and rhyme Harry, we may be dusty but if more could hear the message perhaps this world would be a better place.