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Quatrain Rose Poems | Quatrain Poems About Rose

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

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Details | Quatrain |

Where The White Rose Blooms

The single white rose captured the old gardener's attention,
He lovingly cared for it, like it was his own grand-daughter,
The roses were just like family and friends in his eyes,
He gave them bright sunshine, and plenty of fresh water.

He had always planted roses in reds, yellows, and pinks,
Yet, it was the one white rose that he favored most,
The old gardener admired it's innocence and elegance,
A quality that the other roses just could not boast.

This precious rose was pure white, like new fallen snow,
Which only a cold, late November day could bring,
It's delicate petals were soft to the finger's touch,
Similar to that of a feather, in an angel's wing.

The old gardener was perplexed and astonished,
Only this rose bloomed through spring, summer, and fall,
Each of the other roses had withered months ago,
The frost and cold weather did not affect it at all.

With a smile, the old gardener took one last look,
Unknowingly, death would soon come without warning,
After he had settled down for a nap in his chair,
He drew his last breath, later on that morning.

His funeral was held on the very next day,
Loving words were spoken, as he was laid to rest,
His grand-daughter approached, with tears in her eyes,
As she placed the single white rose upon his chest.

The cemetery was a quiet and peaceful place,
Where family and friends gathered to remember,
A gentle snow began to fall upon the casket lid,
Brightening the gloom on this final day of November.

The old gardener's soul departed from this earth,
Lead away by a choir of angels, on delicate wings,
Then on through the pearly gates of heaven's garden,
Where the white rose still blooms, in eternal springs.






November 25th, 2013


Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013


Details | Quatrain |

Creeping Roses

Tender tendrils climb the wall
Up towards the sky
Past the latticed windows tall
Clinging on from high.

Then in springtime buds in red
Pout with lips apart
Inhibitions they all shed
And seduce my heart.


----------------------------------
Contest: A 7/5 Trochee
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Placed: 1st

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Ode to a rose on a sunset

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as the clouds dip into the sea.
A kiss from that rose as the waves fall,
over the beach to a rose kissed me.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as we wrap in lovers embrace.
A kiss from a rose as homeward we go,
to a bed clothed in satin and lace.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
with passion and warmth do we grasp.
A kiss from that rose that blossoms and blooms,
my hand in her labour pain clasp.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
that wanton and curvy young bride.
A kiss from that rose that huddles our babe,
so loving, in motherly pride.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
without whom I'd not share my life.
A kiss from that rose who selflessly filled,
the place of my darling rose wife!

(c) anaisanais - A M Docherty - Wales, United Kingdom. (7/8/2013)

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2009


Details | Quatrain |

The Shy Rose

Such a beautiful, blooming rose,
There is no reason to be shy,
So, why let your petals close,
When the sun is low in the sky.

Daisies and daffodils arrive in spring,
But, roses are rare, delicate flowers,
Brilliant sunsets are also amazing things,
So, why shy away in the midnight hours.

A rainbow of colors shine in daylight,
Pretty pink, sunny yellow, and rosy red,
But, don't be afraid of the night,
Don't go to sleep in your flower bed.

Look up, and behold the radiant moon,
Gaze at every shimmering, falling star,
The sun will be rising again, soon,
So, wait and see these beauties that are.

You do not experience any of this,
When you only awaken in early morn,
What celestial wonders you do miss,
But, every rose must have it's thorn.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

He Gives You Roses


     When your lover gives you roses
     Look him well into the eyes;
     Are his words sincere and honest
     Or are they just fragrant lies?


     -------------------------------------
            Inspired by Jan's poem:
        "He's Never Given Me Roses"

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Springtime Rose

Beside a gilded wall of white a dainty bench is resting;
Victorian accents swirl about the ornate room, providing
An elegance, a beauty in each line and curve, attesting
To cultured tastes and upscale life, and hours spent deciding
What shapes and colors best would suit the airy, springtime feeling:
But looking closely, something there upon the bench reposes,
A lady's fan and soft kid gloves, their jumbled state revealing
What hasty movements cast them all aside when fragrant roses
Arrived in state with baby's breath, and some white note, nigh hidden
In bursting blooms of rainbow hue, by unknown hands delivered:
And having noted thus, the eye could not but roam unbidden
To she who holds the rose bouquet, to she who slightly shivered
With thoughts that youths so oft imagine, thoughts that made her giddy
And blushed her cheeks the color of the rosy dress cascading
With lacy ruffles from her shoulders, looking just as pretty
As her face, which looks for all the world like roses never fading;
Two lips like shiny cherries, or the poppies that she tends to,
Complexion like a creamy rose with hints of pink surrounding
The fragile outer curling of its leaves; brown eyes that send you
A warm, quick-spreading feeling, like the first hot sunrays bounding
Thro' seas of blue to make the greengrass grow. Now look, she's taking
The little note from out among the stems; perhaps with quiet
And careful steps the message could be read; I have to try it.
"My dearest Rose, I never could imagine so befitting
A name for one who does resemble all that man finds charming
In lovely blossoms: beauty surely, grace as they are flitting
In breezes sweet of scent, and frailty, which I find disarming;
So here's a gift no prettier and sweet than you. Sincerely,
A man that loves you more than you could know.



Quatrains of decapentasyllabic verse followed by a single line of iambic pentameter.
Written by Isaiah Zerbst. Published for the first time January 26, 2015.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

BENCH WITHOUT A ROSE



How stone-black is the park at will And frail is the twilight That glimmers across an uphill Yet teardrops roll, all decked in white. ~ Later, amidst the evening rain When hours drift in repose The pounding lash of time contains A bench without a rose. Contest of SKAT:The day my lover left (old/new poems) 3/16/2016

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

By All of This - Ah, Wanton Bliss

That passion’s night, to make me sigh, my love seized several beams from sky and shaped a ring of moonstone bright. To make me sigh that passion’s night. My darling beau, to make me smile, then star-shine stole so he could style a necklace rare with diamond’s glow. To see me smile, my darling beau. Dear Valentine, to dazzle me, took whitest pearls from twilight’s sea, with starry strand to intertwine. To dazzle me, dear Valentine. My true love wooed with more than these, not only sight, but ear to please! Two birds he brought that softly cooed. With more than these, my true love wooed. With rose bouquet, with kisses sweet, he made my heart then faster beat. Artisan of romantic play - with kisses sweet, with rose bouquet. By all of this, in motion set was what I’d never known as yet. It burst, then flowed. . . Ah, wanton bliss, in motion set by all of this! (BTW, this is pure imagination, people!!! So don't be jealous!! hahaha This is a form called Swap Quatrain, PD. Happy Valentine's Day to you!!) For the Get your Valentine's Day poem in... any Valentine's poem will do.. (new or old) Poetry Contest of Poet Destroyer A

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

She Rose

From the ashes
What used to be?
Knowing her destiny
Is life to overcome time!

She wasn’t worthy, cannot overcome
Cheats her heart, but never to be
To overcome the obstacles
Life places before her
Each day
Is a life
To
Overcome
Learning who she is
Striving for what she could
Become
Complete
Oneness
With many facets
Of her being
With
Chocolate wine
lot of Memories
And strawberry kisses.

Brooke Dylan 2014

Copyright © Brooke Dylan | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

This Thistle and his Rose

I don't want for much
Being just a simple man
My love i wish to share
To show her who i am

The touch of this man
Will serenade your skin
The touch of his lips
And you will start to begin

To open up your heart
And welcome him home
To hold him in your arms
So he will no longer roam

To look into your blue eyes
As in his arms he holds you tight
Know he'll be here tomorrow
And with you every single night

The want in my loving heart
Just grows and grows and grows
The desire to share my love
For this Thistle and his Rose




http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-8.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |

FREE CEE a rose arose




    Cherie-A ROSE AROSE

T’was once a rose, t’was once a weed
No thorns upon her stem decreed
The rose, for that weed, fulfilled his every need
A bud with nectar sweeter than any mead

Alas, the two had never met
One simple dahlia kept them apart
The weed was angry, the rose upset
That rose so sweet yet a weed too tart

But then sweetened was that weed one day 
While ignoring anything Mother Nature had to say 
Now two stand stoic together in a humble way
And are no longer frightened when the sky turns gray

That weed required no promise, nor vow
Only a day of peacefulness by the sea
At once took that rose a curtsied bow
And shared with each other honeysuckle tea

No union together for forever declared
Just a few daisy days to share and care
The two were simply platonic ally paired
United by the graciousness of a garden rare
© 2012…..free cee!

Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

The Rose of Poetry

I see your work budding, like a flower each new day. Slowly blooming more and more, bringing color to a time that’s gray. Your colorful petals are amazing, the way you reflect the sun. And your beauty still remains, after the beauty of the day is done. For your work radiates, here on Poetry Soup. We are all poetic flowers; part of a big garden group. I am writing this poem, to the poetic flower you are. You glisten each new day, from way, way, afar. If life was a big garden, a flower you would be. With flourished poetic petals, named the Rose of Poetry. ______________________ For Belinda Parish a fellow souper for her supportive comments.

Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |

Poppies: Collaboration with Mystic Rose

Hillsides shimmer in summer's golden fire
as marmalade sun dawns on poppied slopes.
I run with Monarch butterflies higher
barefoot in honey with tangerine hopes.

I hear the butter chirp of a warbler's song
and smile at God's creative citrine zest.
While I inhale the gold-coined sun, I long
for the Monarch's dappled orange vest--

If only I could shed my morose shades
and pluck the redly poppies off his grave;
I could be one with this saffron parade,
embrace euphoria, live the colors I crave.

Hillsides of valor: once I held his quest.
Now I turn to ruby poppies and I scorn,
but at myself or all in us that's best.
I cannot change the past nor can I mourn

a past I cannot change. But on this hill
I feel the poppies in their sherbert folds;
they lilt like orange butterflies and fill
life with sunrise, the beauty Monarchs hold.


7/5/17

Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

A Daydream

My fingertips lightly travel
down these worn piano keys,
the memories now unravel
as I hear your favorite melodies.

I reminisce within my writing
about a time that used to be,
when your arms were so inviting
and they would hold only me.

The quiet whispers on the breeze
the first kisses that were soft,
we sat underneath the willow trees,
as my heart then sailed aloft.

I can still smell the roses, red
their petals pressed upon the page,
where your old promises lie dead
they have not withered with age.

I am daydreaming of the past
when our love seemed to be true,
a relationship that will not last
but, back then we never knew.





Isaiah Zerbst's contest - "A Daydream"

Based on the painting. "A Daydream" by Sir Edward John Poynter

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

--BREATHE: a collab with Mystic Rose


BREATHE As I inhale jasmines: sweet sailing scents of blooms, it place me to the time where distance has no room I'm chilled by blowing wind from an open window, struck by void while the moonbeams shines to grass below. Missing and hunger are the melodies that sweeps a lowly heart trembling as melancholy creeps, my growing yearning is to close this dreary space for so long it tears our hearts with wanting embrace. Our beings are imperfect but we do aspire: to feel, to taste one true love all of us desire--- throbbing with purity, lifting a soul from mire to end sorrows brought by agony and cooled fire When true love finally comes, stays and do surround, life reckons with a purpose to set and abound. Freed from shackles, thriving forever with delight: breathe anew for darkness shall fade to fuller light. When the night claims you like a wayward leaf of old and it takes you to the caves where anything turns gold you don't ask any questions and you don't dare breathe you just follow her, like a light weight tumbled weed Down the passages of dark, down the staircase of rune every step a little deeper than the crevices of moon you can almost taste the air, on your tonguing clepe you can down the stars of heaven in one single leap Taking you by the waist it shall dance you through the elixir of happiness when your feeling down n' blue you just thank the Lord for the magic of this gift all you need is skin n' eyes to cross her lowly rift When night claims you like a wayward leaf of old and takes you to her caves, all etched with gold don't ask her any questions just go ahead breathe no, don't ask her anything at all, just breathe, yes breathe... ___________________________________________ 4:25 pm, January 08, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

A Rose by Any Other Name

All the names are just the same
If you are sweet like a rose
I confess, I’m not impressed
Oh, how little that bard knows

For the name of your loved one
Can make you completely melt
When it’s breathed in your heart
Its vibrations are deeply felt

The name of your loved one
Is a promise in one word…
That his love is eternal 
His unfaithfulness, unheard

The name of your loved one
Is with passion intertwined
Your lips caress each letter
Your heart echoes it in rhyme

The name of your loved one
Is salvation’s greatest treat
Though you pass through gates of hell
It’ll take you to heaven sweet

The name of your loved one
Is simply beyond compare
No other name can match it
No other would even dare

And so it is, beloved
When we’re making love sublime
Your name bursts out from my lips
Making your sweet name… divine

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Rose Garden

There`s a rose garden I planted - unpractical fancy,
I spend my days there lost, bemused and enchanted
Such beauty nurtured and grown is meant to be given
Lest the garden becomes a holding cell, a prison

I was told love tears down barriers and breaks through walls
But the roses keep growing, and no one answers my calls
The garden walls are high and strong; I`ve had enough,
My gardening tools onto the ground silently drop

The red on the roses suddenly seems like dried blood
The earth that gave life to such wonder is just mud
Roses, torture me no more with your splendor
I`m no more your defender, to my bitterness I surrender

The garden`s neglected, flowers and weeds grow wild
The fruit of this love is only thorns and this bastard child
Such beauty nurtured and grown was meant to be given
But the garden became a holding cell, a prison

Copyright © laszlo kecsedi | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

A Collaboration With Mystic Rose- Poem Entitled- Breathe

When the night claims you like a wayward leaf of old 
and it takes you to the caves where anything turns gold 
you don't ask any questions and you don't dare breathe 
you just follow her, like a light weight tumbled weed 

She extinguishes all but love as she proceeds,
yet your heart follows her wherever she leads.
You don’t require a destination, you merely comply
with the extraordinary feelings that allow hopes to fly.

Down the passages of dark, down the staircase of rune 
every step a little deeper than the crevices of moon 
you can almost taste the air, on your tonguing clepe 
you can down the stars of heaven in one single leap

Deeper into the shadows she merges with the dark, 
beyond light, it seems so empty and stark.
Yet you feel compelled to follow, no matter your fear,
motivated by the memory of a smile, that brought a tear. 

Taking you by the waist it shall dance you through
the elixir of happiness when your feeling down n' blue 
you just thank the Lord for the magic of this gift 
all you need is skin n' eyes to cross her lowly rift 

Ebony encases you , erasing all your hurts and pains, 
until only joy and the essence of happiness remains.
The darkness of night penetrates your very soul,
yet you embrace it, and will gladly pay the toll.

When night claims you like a wayward leaf of old 
and takes you to her caves, all etched with gold 
don't ask her any questions just go ahead breathe 
no, don't ask her anything at all, just breathe, 

Acquiescing to the wants and needs of night,
you close your eyes and relinquish your sight.
And as your raw emotions boil and seethe,
you gasp for air, simply forgetting to breathe,


yes breathe...


A Collaboration With Mystic Rose, Poem Entitled: "Breathe", My verses are in bold.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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.

Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Twelve Red Roses

This Mother’s Day I brought you
flowers tied with a black bow.
And amidst twelve red roses 
I placed one as white as snow.

You gave birth to thirteen souls
yet one passed on before you.
And I recall how that pain
nearly tore your heart in two.

Here’s a bouquet of kisses
to let you know we’re alright.
And that each red rose lives on
while the white shares heaven's light.

Just a mute salutation
to honor you on your day.
And show you that you’re still loved
in my own intimate way.

When angels took you from me
I placed roses on your grave.
And not knowing what to say
I promised that I’d be brave.

I miss your smile in my life
and no longer feel quite whole.
For your light lit the dark and
brought happiness to my soul.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Crimson Rose

Crimson rose from yesterday,
what turned you pale and gray?
Where is the scent of sweet perfume,
That filled your every day?

Your petals have all fallen
in  the chilly autumn air.
Shinny leaves, of forest green
have left you, cold and bare.

Was your beauty squandered
in the warmth of summer light?
Did you listen to the promises
that faded through the night?

Your heart was made for lovely things.
You were made to dance and sing.
Your time was spent in celebrating,
the peace and joy you bring.

written 09.01.2016
Brain Strand's 208 contest

Copyright © Francis J Grasso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Gypsy Rose

Every circus needs to have a side show.
In the olden days you’d often see
unique and wondrous sights; you should know
you are reading of one now. It’s me!

I read palms and Tarot cards till night,
but then I loosen up and start to dance.
Though I surely suffer from no stage fright,
I don’t have to strip tease to entrance!

I simply shimmy in my sexy clothes
while swirling round; I sweetly sing and do
amazing magic, for this Gypsy Rose
has many ways of entertaining you.

A crowd of people I can hypnotize
and since I am so skilled, be wary lest
you look too deeply into my green eyes,
for reading souls is what I do the best!

For David Williams' Circus Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

A KISS FOR MYSTIC ROSE

A smile a kiss for  Mystic Rose
In the eve of a Valentine night
The drowsy moon is over the moon
The cupid cloud is arrowing light

Verdant air so young and fair
A friend of earth and  furtive glance
Sweet breeze blows, Mystic Rose 
Coming close in  amorous trance




Contest Name	Magic Kisses And Valentine Wishes 
Sponsor	Mystic Rose
Poet: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
20th January,2015

Copyright © RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

An Altar and A Rose

The somber members gathered
After Jesus’ death of woe.
With downcast eyes, they questioned
Why their Savior had to go.

At their first church meeting 
Since the ill-fated event.
They always gathered secretly,
With Roman soldiers evident.

“Look!” said a humble lady,
Pointing to a new altar.
Embarrassed, she sat down quickly 
Riveting eyes made her falter.

This altar, so remarkable
For a church of but one room,
Was adorned by a long-stemmed rose.
In full and delightful bloom.

A man let his hand glide across 
The altar’s glistening wood 
“Such smooth and polished grain.”
Craftsmanship he understood.

A girl said, “This pretty rose 
Has such deep red so pure,
And its lingering fragrance 
Is one I surely adore.”

The gray-headed pastor smiled.
And said, “A man came in today,
And offered us this altar
Replacing ours with no pay.

“I felt good about this man,
So I looked in his oak-wheeled cart.
And under wraps of old robes
He showed me this work of art.

“After the Crucifixion
He took the cross to his shop,
And cut the rough wood in planks
And smoothed them from bottom to top. 

“His heart was bursting with love
As he built the altar with care,
Then polished it to a sheen,
With an artistic flair.

“Then,” the pastor continued,
“A sweet lady rapped on the door
With a great story to tell.
About this lovely rose we adore.

“She had seen the Crucifixion,
And stayed until all had gone.
She wept at the foot of the cross
Where laid thorns worn by God’s Son. 

“She’d not let the shame of these thorns
Be seen. For this she would guard.
She took them home with her
And buried them in her yard.

“Three days later, a rose sprung up
In the exact place she chose.
Now, she felt compelled to bring us
Its very first blooming rose.”

Copyright © James Tate | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

Be My Valentine

To call a rose by any other name
Could never do justice to you
To see you name there in the frame
Makes my heart go out to you…

A rose as fair, perfumed to perfection
The palest yellow petals that glow
Make my heart beat as though with infection
My temperature it raises so.

So Mystic lady I ask you this one time
If I were a boy, rich, strong and tall
Would you then be my valentine?
And we can leave now, and sod them all.

©  10/01/2013
 Entry for Mystic Roses' contest: Be my Valentine

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

A Single Scarlet Rose

Upon your grave I placed
a single scarlet rose.
And said goodbye to you
so that my grief could close.

I begged you to stay 
yet you ignored my plea.
And as you walked away
my anger watched you flee.

The rain pummeled your face
while the wind whipped your hair.
And as you crossed the street
fate chose to be unfair.

A speeding car hit you
now your ghost haunts my dreams.
And torments me nightly
fueling nightmare screams.

I’m sorry that you died
you deserved so much more. 
Yet it's time to let go
and let your spirit soar.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Rose for PD


Today I'm sending just one perfect rose
It's beauty to be savored on it's own
Each petal a gown of  brilliant color
This special one for you and you alone...

Beauty of a dozen to be enjoyed
But as individuals you both shine
The rose a symbol of your loving ways
A poetic heart, unique and so very fine


Barbara Gorelick 1/8/12
dedicated to PD..for her contest...

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

The Importance of the Rose

.THE IMPORTANCE OF THE ROSE (flower contest entry)

Every rose harbors a story,
from buds kissed by the dew,
lovely glorious blossoms,
share the mystique of their hue.

Sunny yellow says “I care,”
lemonade to shades of gold,
non-romantic true affection,
invites friendships to unfold.

A whisper of sweet memories
blooms the peaceful rose of white,
beautiful remembrances
like flocks of doves in flight.

A pink rose sings of happiness,
bright tones or soft pastels
bring goodwill, joy and cheerfulness
to any story that it tells.				

Burning passion and desire
spark from a brilliant flame ,								
an orange rose like a sunset,								
no two are quite the same.

The moody hybrid blue rose,							
cries of unrequited love,								
a lonely journey by your heart,
without who you’re dreaming of.
								
The “Queen of Roses,” ruby red,
it’s splendor unsurpassed,
a love beyond all others,
a true love that will last.

Symbolic and enchanting,
each wondrous flower that grows,
life would surely lack some magic,
without the beauty of the rose.
 
Liz Labadie-Reilly
Nov 3 2015

Copyright © Liz Labadie-Reilly | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Breathing With Mystic Rose

When the night claims you like a wayward leaf of old 
and it takes you to the caves where anything turns gold 
you don't ask any questions and you don't dare breathe
you just follow her, like a light weight tumbled weed 

Down the passages of dark, down the staircase of rune 
every step a little deeper than the crevices of moon
you can almost taste the air, on your tonguing clepe
you can down the stars of heaven in one single leap 

Taking you by the waist it shall dance you through
the elixir of happiness when your feeling down n' blue 
you just thank the Lord for the magic of this gift 
all you need is skin n' eyes to cross her lowly rift 

When night claims you like a wayward leaf of old
and takes you to her caves, all etched with gold
don't ask her any questions just go ahead breathe 
no, don't ask her anything at all, just breathe, 
yes breathe... 

   *           *           *           *          *           *  
          
Deep breaths I took when she stepped into my world
a goddess she became when in my arms she twirled.
At entry to her cave she beckoned with promising eyes.
I would've followed her until the stars fell from the skies.

We heard celestial music playing, a lover's waltz the tune
I held her in my arms and we danced around the moon
Back down into her cave, we romped into a golden maze
Her scent of wild magnolia set the fire in my heart ablaze.

We paused for a moment as she placed a finger to my lips.
Passion aroused, my hands slowly dropped down to her hips.
She batted her silken lashes and danced deeper into her cave.
Teasing little minx, turned and raised her hand in alluring wave.

Not a dream is my goddess, who still sleeps within my arms
enticed me into her cave with soft music and sensual charms.
I will linger here beside her until we take our last breath.
In our cave where all is gold, we'll stay even after death.

yes, we breathe... we breathe as one



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December 29th 2015
Collaboration Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Breathless -- Collaboration with Mystic Rose

BREATHLESS

I exhale vaporous swirls into the night black and cold
watching them race through moonlight, cascading uncontrolled
your eyes say everything, and in your gaze I'm frozen
I yearn to follow, to submit, and be your chosen.

Along the shore of heaven’s starry sea you guide
maddening silence shared, your breathing won’t confide
I faintly hear some ancient song pulsing rhythms primal
we dance while the universe turns to behold our sweet recital

Through stony pillars down into Earth’s very bosom led
Sounds get swallowed up and bound by words unsaid
I smile at the wicked runes somehow now so blessed
in the shadow rise and fall of your breathing chest

I exhale vaporous swirls into caverns black and cold
and watch them void of moonlight, etch the walls in gold
My thoughts are growing muddled, so I stop to watch you breathe
suffocating in the silence, as I watch you breathe,

I can't breathe…

Written by: Grahamburglar
1/22/16

BREATHE

When the night claims you like a wayward leaf of old 
and it takes you to the caves where anything turns gold 
you don't ask any questions and you don't dare breathe 
you just follow her, like a light weight tumbled weed 

Down the passages of dark, down the staircase of rune 
every step a little deeper than the crevices of moon 
you can almost taste the air, on your tonguing clepe 
you can down the stars of heaven in one single leap

Taking you by the waist it shall dance you through
the elixir of happiness when your feeling down n' blue 
you just thank the Lord for the magic of this gift 
all you need is skin n' eyes to cross her lowly rift 

When night claims you like a wayward leaf of old 
and takes you to her caves, all etched with gold 
don't ask her any questions just go ahead breathe 
no, don't ask her anything at all, just breathe, 

yes breathe...

Written by: Mystic Rose

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2016