Best Naturerose Poems
The miracle of love is like a rose bloom in spring
That sees the day, bedazzles, stings then decays
The miracle of love is like a rose bloom in spring
The flame that is born never to fade away
The miracle of love is like a rose bloom in spring
The miracle of the renewal of the break 'f day
The miracle of love is like a rose bloom in spring
The swing of the heart between the day past and ‘
The sought-for one the future will ahead lay
The miracle of love is like a rose bloom in spring
The passage 'f a shooting-star:
The magic instant one ne'er truly takes the time
To enjoy as it flies away ere the scent 'f its spark
Twirls one’s senses away
Single red rose upon my bed
You lay undone your richness is complete
Your scent is sweet with passion in mind
The tenderness of your petal touches my skin
Velvet like a glove upon my hand
A strength in your stem as you hold your head
Single red rose upon my bed
Red as berry you rule your vision with delight
A single kiss from beauty that covers you
A moment of pure tranquil setting
Just a flower to others
But a rose in bloom is in my sight
The perfect scarlet bud is in my light
A token desired as warm as fire from the one admired ...
The banks of the stream are filled with rose hips,
a blossom with tiny delicate tips.
Shrubby, probably a rose of Sharon,
white blossoms fill the bushy bank thereon.
After cutting the lawn, I trim the brush,
culling weeds and vines away from the bush.
Yielding fragrant flowers and testy bees.
In the evening deer nose around the trees.
The treasured petals form a thoroughfare
grown on prickly stems designed to ensnare.
Each budding blossom, like a cherubim,
with pollen nectar for a diadem.
* Creator kissed, with a radiance, that comes from deep within
Perfection caught so effortlessly, in the amber mood of day
Petal by petal, she opens up, no shyness in her bloom
A gilded queen, a gift of sun, she takes my breath away
And though a rose is still a rose by any other name...
All other roses would simply hide their blooming heads in shame
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My hybrid beauty, Sutter's Gold
Your scent so sweet, your colors bold
There could not be a fairer rose.
Most perfect petals now are those.
Your leaves are green and fresh, unbitten.
You follow every rose rule written.
You are your perfect best today
With the rose show still three weeks away!
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With the rose show still three weeks away
You are your perfect best today.
You follow every rose rule written,
Your leaves are green and fresh, unbitten.
Most perfect petals now are those.
There could not be a fairer rose.
Your scent so sweet, your colors bold,
My hybrid beauty, Sutter's Gold.
For Matt Caliri's " Write a Backwards Poem" Contest won 3rd place
Small burgundy rose bud
Surely the last rose of summer
Very tightly bound like a stud
You've graced my day, an affirmer
Surely the last rose of summer
Winter will come bringing cold
You've graced my day, an affirmer
That my existence should be bold
Surely the last rose of summer
Very tightly bound like a stud
Winter will come bringing cold
Small burgundy rose bud
(Stud here means like a stud on clothes that is an ornanment)
Thirty degrees and heavy frost
Of last night, killed the Impatiens
The running rose blooms and buds frozen
The Ginko is almost naked nearly all leaves gone
Only a few yellow strands
Left on the chilled branches
The white hoar's frost excentuates
Gold beneath the mostly barren limbs
Air is frozen as breathe into lungs
Comes out as foggy drift
Too cold to linger for the warmth
Of the inside seems so appealing
Responsiblity calls for today
Is celebration Sunday at church
There will be dinner after service
Then an extra choir practice
It was a hectic day but refreshing
In its own way, renewed friendships
Sharing a meal with church family
Seeing people enjoy what I prepared
Went out to see the damage to plants
From the first hard frost of the season
Most tender shoot are totally gone
It is amazing though the rose hangs on
There was an eagle that proudly flew
Over the mountains what a view
He would soar high on the currents
Swoop to feed on the salmon roe
High on thermal currents on day
Way down under a rose did lay
On a trellis spreading its tendrils
All around, playing walking minstrels
On lone bloom on the rose spread
On the breeze waved its sleepy head
The eagle wanted to smell the rose
So he swooped and caught with toes
But who caught whom
Is what I say
On the fatal summer day
In the month of May
There's a rose that grows in the garden
It's a scion of exceptional stock
Problem is it's not hardy
So the wild keeps blooming about
But when a bloom from the scion
Opens, it is such a beautiful sight
The scent is outstanding exceptional
It draws me out at midnight
Just to enjoy its present
To feast on the scent a delight
And touch the soft velvet petals
Glad that I chose this rose that night
To see the beautiful grandeur that is
the twining's of the rose and the pear tree.
Is something that you don't forget.
And I haven't since I was three.
The pear tree has stood the test of time,
From weather to kids on tire swings.
It's heavily blossomed, snow white each year
and home to many birds on the wing
The rose bush is a thorn filled Rambler,
Of the deepest red I have ever seen.
It refuses to be tamed or tied,
With even the toughest string.
Each spring Grandma and Grandpa
would have dreams of a fence covered in rose.
But it ended the same each year
with the rose going where it wanted to grow.
You could not complain about the beauty,
that would greet your eye each time
You entered the backyard and saw,
White blossoms and red roses entwined
To see the beautiful granduer that is
the twining's of the rose and the pear tree.
Is something that you don't forget.
And I haven't since I was three.
The pear tree has stood the test of time,
From weather to kids on tire swings.
It's heavily blossomed, snow white each year
and home to many birds on the wing
The rose bush is a thorn filled Rambler,
Of the deepest red I have ever seen.
It refuses to be tamed or tied,
With even the toughest string.
Each spring Grandma and Grandpa
would have dreams of a fence covered in rose.
But it ended the same each year
with the rose going where it wanted to grow.
You could not complain about the beauty,
that would greet your eye each time
You entered the backyard and saw,
White blossoms and red roses entwined