Best Rosy Poems


Rosy Lips Dream Girl

In which material you made of; rosy lips dream girl,
God himself is confused; it is a daydream or real.

Your pale white skin; glitters like well polished marble, 
Pearls fall nice from your heart whelming chuckle. 

Your twinkle twinkle eyes; look like lightening among cloud, 
Tears got banned there; only sweet dreams are allowed.

Stirring passionate thought; you can steal guy’s attention,  
Deer like your rhyming walk is signature of your fashion.

Framing naughty pretty deal; your eyes talk nice,
You can burn every heart in a single wicked smile.

If your feet will be slipped; you will be losing your goal,
Treasure your beauty locking mind with heart and soul.

Within silky dense hair; your face shines like diamond,
You are made only for a king to illuminate his kingdom.

In which material you made of; rosy lips dream girl,
God himself is confused; it is a daydream or real.
==============================================
Categories: rosy, beauty, girl,
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Rosy Moments

candles stir mystique of  night
 to  whirl around  lit  gazes
    dripping on fate's  trance    awestruck
      …by rosy moments

in velvet pier's harbourview--
  stardust traces quivered  flesh
   drenching wax  of  smooth  passion
    … as two blazed lips melt



Valentine--Form D Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings   1/17/2017
Checked via www.howmanysyllables.com
Categories: rosy, devotion, passion, valentines day,
Form: Dodoitsu

Premium Member My Aunt Rosy-Fv

It was such a long time ago,
but I still remember the day
she came to live with us,
my aunt, a young widow.
Everybody called her Rosy,
maybe because she had pink cheeks,
her real name nobody remembered.

My sister and I became her instant fans,
not because she was such a beauty,
we adored her for the way she treated us, 
she was so caring, so loving.
The reason I now understand,
she found in us her unborn children.

In the evening after she finished her chores
she would tell us stories
she heard from her husband, a soldier,
stories of the lands he had gone,
of the battle he had fought and won.
We could see a tiny drop of tear
shine in the corner of her eye.
As she told why the bold soldier didn’t return
a sense of pride flashed,
remembering her husband in those stories, 
she found him come alive.

In the gleam of the twilight hour
her lively face glowed like a flower
in the crimson of the setting sun,
and aunt Rosy turned into a rose.

Her real name nobody remembers,
but then I ask, “what’s in a name”,
for a rose is a rose is a rose.

March 12, 2019
Categories: rosy, flower, remember, rose,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member My First Car - a Not So Rosy Story

My very first car was, I think,
a Monza, which was rosy pink.
At a somewhat cheap price,
that old sports car was nice,
but my luck with her sure did stink!

Cleaned and polished, she was looking fine;
I was happy to claim her as mine
although she was such
a hog! On too much
gasoline that old sports car would dine!

On a big trip I took her; I cried
to find out that her engine was fried.
From a crack in her block
she stopped working. Tick Tock!
Time is short; in six weeks she had died!
Categories: rosy, funny, car, old, car,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member The Man In the Rosy Glasses

I look at the world through rosy glasses
It helps me tolerate the asses
And as each new day passes
I am happy to be here

The glass I see is half-way full
I think diversity is kind’a cool
Mix up genes in the human pool
And let prejudices disappear

I like staying optimistic
Even if it’s not always so realistic
Being otherwise just makes me sick
I hope my meaning is quite clear

So, if you must wear a frown
And see the glass as half-way down
I don’t want you come’n round
Unless you’re wanting to be cheered

The pessimists are down the hall
The realists don’t exist at all
The fatalists wait for the call
They all think I’m kind’a *****

But, I am happy to be me
You get exactly what you see
This, I hope, I’ll always be
For another 50 years
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: rosy, introspection, life, prejudice,
Form: Rhyme

Fajitas For Rosy

Fajitas For Rosy    

Stare stall and groan, 
	groom 
and rake morning sand 
pocket book door key 
Samarkind club Tokay[OK] 
fingernail rail 
onto slime beach 
in AM. after hip-dip[ and drink 
with [still- -speed] seed. 
	and,,,slowly walk [away] 
	may
yield 
small great pea. 
point of all, small mall animal 
like a tiny mammal, knowing 
	Lithuwana 
	wanting a polish dog ,...
Fajitas for Rosy Muruyama 
bank worked Brinks maintop, manship 
in my brother’s sterile sink. 
Ah! Rosy[Ah! girl!] lemonade and fish soup 
with little bits of trapped tourist toys floating 
in flotilla grave. wave.
Categories: rosy, allegory
Form: Haiku


Premium Member Rosy Kitchen Dip - Footles

what sheen!
When clean..

the sink~
so pink...

beauty
fruity

© O. E. Guillermo
10:30 pm
August 19, 2014

Sponsor	Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name	Let's Keep Footling Around 
Placed 7th..
Categories: rosy, funny, humor, imagery,
Form: Footle

All Roses Are Rosy, But Flowers Are So Colorful

roses are rosy      
right predictions not all scent
rubicund is piece
Categories: rosy, flower, rose,
Form: Senryu

Ella Rosy Cheeks

Her seed turned into a bud the day she was miraculously conceived,
she peeked on a cool February day during the mid-afternoon-
Pink  R O S Y  cheeks with such brown eyes; it was so hard to believe,
her beauty shined with day beams as her effloresce began to bloom.

days into weeks…
  weeks into years…
    still with  R O S Y  cheeks…
      as I shed sweet mother tears…

During July she blossomed more than any other time I could think of,
she grew taller but still so itty-bitty in complete comparison to me-
Many thorns grew as she transformed into a young lady I dearly loved,
she found independence as she struggled in the breeze to be free.

days into weeks…
  weeks into years…
    still with  R O S Y  cheeks…
      as I shed sweet mother tears…

Time had passed as she met a young man who flourished her with desire,
rain had encountered, yet it nourished their relationship and made plans-
Just about the time her father and I decided to take a break and retire,
she walked down the aisle with a dozen pink colored roses in her hands.

She held such beauty as she closed her eyes with the sun fading into twilight,
in the morn’s fresh dew she awoke with such bloom as her thriving peeked-
The floret of her essence remains a sore eye for my lovely wondrous sight,
for she’ll always be my pure embellishment with those pink  R O S Y  cheeks.



*Dedicated to my beautiful daughter, Ella ROSE.*
My nickname for her is Ella "Rosy Cheeks"


And in words, she blooms - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Casarah Nance 

Date Written: August 23, 2016
Categories: rosy, daughter, flower,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Rosy

Sunset tints the sky a rosy hue,
       Where the lilac seas crash out of view,
   Pink cotton clouds beckon me to stay,
Where the white roar of the waves jet spray,

The sky and the sea meld into one,
   Magenta reflections of the sun,
        The water glitters all rouge and blush,
Just standing there makes my feelings gush,

How can I describe that twilight scene?
      Pale fuchsia fashioned sunbeams serene
   Mirrored on the lavender ocean ~
God’s hand in awe-inspiring motion.




10.05.2021



For Constance La France's ""R" contest, new or old" contest
Categories: rosy, appreciation, sea, sky, sunset,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Desert

Like a morning hag in curlers
Without a trace of makeup on,
Ugly is thy name, O Desert; 
A gift from those who know you not.

Show me the glass-eyed towers
That match your crystalline skies.
Show me the fiery tresses
As fair as your rosy clouds at dawn.

The doyens of cosmetics,
With their scientific skills,
Make no blushes that compare
With your evening skies and hills.

Richer than a thousand gardens
Are your flowered plains in Spring;
Lovelier than the splendid robes
Of wise Solomon, the king.

Fort Knox’ gold is a piker’s hoard
Beside your banks of sun-gilt peaks.
The diamonds of Fifth Avenue
Are dull beside your morning dew.

Your pogonip is a blanket
Much cleaner than the smog.
And who would shun the coyote
For a heavy metal lullaby?
Categories: rosy, appreciation, beauty, change, feelings,
Form: Free verse

White Trees and Rosy Flowers: a Morning Symphony

It wasn't the rain, it was the stars that cried with envy of the day
and stole the kisses from the night that fell like rain.
The moon was stunned to see the countryside copying her dress,
and the night left with the moon and stars in tow,
as the rosy flower of the morning arrived hand in hand with the sun
and caressed the field left soaked by the night.
The trees, dressed in white, looked at each other,
remembering their dreams of rolling starry paths,
and hand in hand with the wind, the field woke up.
The night went away and the silver flower of the morning opened,
also with white petals, tired of the wind's dream.
The morning came, bringing honey-scented perfumes for the tree.
It was born with the sun, which had been sleeping in the night
and guarded by stars that shone brightly in his dreams.
Now, without a hat, the sun is offering everything to the morning,
dressed in gala attire by the trees in white sailor uniforms.
They offer prayers and flowers to the morning,
moving the hand of the wind to paint the spring.
Meanwhile, the green grass plays quietly like a little girl,
promising a gift for the man who will come to pick it up for his house.
The silent elm accompanies the cherry, the plum, and the almond trees
who are already laughing and bringing flowers with them,
letting the bees buzz around them,
and their fallen petals adorn the ground with a sparkling white.
"Mother, have you seen how beautiful the field looks,dressed in white?" the child dances and runs,
spreading love with open arms,
throwing laughter into the tray of the wind,
and filling the path with stars with every turn,
the ones that the night lost in the morning.
The mother, filled with moonlight on her face,
embraces him, looking at her child,
seeing the chalice of life rising.
Categories: rosy, art, cute, environment, good
Form: Free verse

Premium Member My Rosy Cheek

How often have we played this game -

Our lover's round of hide-and-seek?

Thus looking to assign the shame ...

When ardor's tides are ebbing, weak.

Sometimes love dies ...

Sans whats or whys.



But should you need to give it name

Or find good use, your doublespeak

For you, I'll take the burning blame

Of sting upon my blushing cheek

Mock anger's brand ...

Your back-of-hand.




* FIFTH PLACE in the "Contest Number 410 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *

* THIRD PLACE in the "Rhyme Me A Posie" Poetry Contest, Broken Wings, Sponsor. Syllables counted at HowManySyllables.com, and no cliche's, checked at PoetrySoup.com. *
Categories: rosy, heartbreak, love hurts, metaphor,
Form: Rhyme

Blood Rose Rosy Red

Blood rose rosy red
In the end your reign
Is more than acid wet
When a woman scorned is stone within

Her blooms about a jealous weave 
Envy's thorn gleaming hard shell green
From soul of deadly poison ivy
Where blossom thoughts be born conniving

And blacker petals tear...
Unto Orchids petty dear
Are her drops of another's letting
Wounded, wake of men dead and dying 

Who holds what her secrets are
Upon beauty's solemn face
Or across a painted flesh garden 
When a moon is full and the sun is ever drowning grace 

Could it be the gnomes or moles beneath 
Sheer sure evil of pale beauty skin
Bringing out colours of femme fatale
Wicked charms of this woman chameleon
Categories: rosy, beautiful, woman,
Form: Verse

Lazy Rosy

Lazy! Rosy buds- 
still not opening petals
Spring is near to end....!



An Entry for Contest "Spring into haiku" 
by Debbie Guzzi
Categories: rosy, rose, spring,
Form: Haiku
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