Rose Flower Poems | Examples

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


Premium MemberSt. Cera

In her hair, she placed a rose,
so like her own curling petals;
richly red, her eyes deep blue
A sweet lilt musical as heaven.
In her heart from birth she sensed
love as wide and deep, all seas!
And through her life she sought
her God, only for him to please….
She danced over the rough stages
of life, her leaps resounding rhythms.
She sang a sacred healing Light -- 
though born late, in a dark eve her 
unrelenting Irish never gave way 
to night.


Premium MemberGemmed Rose

    If love etched on
          gemmed, rose, alabaster
                 it will be full of  
                 sonorous blissfulness            
  ,      like a dreamlike lily.

Premium MemberOF ROSEBUSHES, AND US: A BEAUTIFUL AWARENESS

OF ROSEBUSHES AND US: A BEAUTIFUL AWARENESS  

Like the rosebushes,
our lives have petals and thorns:
God growing us on:-

Premium MemberYellow Roses


Yellow roses.
One stunning sight

Yellow roses.
It just seems right

Yellow roses.
She makes me write

Yellow roses.
Of them I read

Yellow roses.
Not roses red
Nor roses pink
Not roses white
Nor roses purple

Yellow roses.
Saw them differently today.
Read of a yellow rose I say.
She was named 'The Poet's Wife'.

Premium MemberOne White Rose

With such feminine flamboyancy 
this maiden sways in sassy motion
flashing, flitting, flaming a sweet minuet
beneath a mural of moonlit madness,

her flared gown fair as gemmed feathers
this  one white rose, radiantly  rising ,
her flight of fancy floating on yard's floor 

and like a nubile nymph of nightfall;
she parades with petals on a pageant...

How this femme fatale; a floral rune 
glides gaily...such sizzling sensation,
goddess of spring's glossed grandeur!


Premium MemberA Single White Rose

  A single white rose
  abloom

Premium MemberA Single White Rose

A single white rose stands, swaying in wheezy wind Got a glimmering glimpse of it in the dewy dawn. On the carpet of green, as a dreamy dame she swings, Demure and slightly bent on a magical monsoon day. A fine flower with petite petals, delicate, Yet sheltered by sharp stinging thorns that pierce. Rain drops drip off her vaporous velvety face As unanticipated tears rush down from one’s eyes. She is fairer far than anything one can spot Her petals, so silky and soft, spun by angels of heaven. Oh, symbol of grace, you rock me in dazzling delight, And in me a thousand poetic fancies ignite!

Premium MemberBeyond what makes it special

A rose is still just a rose.



AP: Honorable Mention 2026

Premium Memberthe white rose

anonymous
signature of secrecy 
discreet and loving

Premium MemberMoon and Rose

A full moon floats above the garden, white light stirs in the softness of a rose. Listening to the night’s gentle whispers. Whispers drift from shadow and bloom. Both hold mysteries in their silent beauty. The night orb will take you places; allow yourself to follow its patient, luminous trail. In its unwavering orbit the moon leaves us with footprints of possibility across the tapestry of a rose.

Premium MemberA ROSEBUSH-LIKE DAY

A ROSEBUSH-LIKE DAY  

Bright sunshine morning,
A beautiful afternoon:
Thunderstorm evening!
It was like rubbing rose buds,
Then grabbing their pointed stems:-

Premium MemberMy Pore Rose

Holy Told-ye-o, I can’t belief
in the hot blustering sun, my pore rose
felt to the difficult ground, droopping it’s head and leafs
oh my pore pore pore rose.  I am afeared its toast.
You rilly think it deservd this?
For heavens sack, it didn’t naught.
I loved that melliflous flour like I love my too kids.
I cant belief the weigh human beans with no apathy laught
about it dyeing!

Premium MemberGreedy to the end

It was the last rose.
Forbidden but I had to have it.
Clutched it with no regret.



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2026

Premium MemberSparkle

solitary moon shining through stained window sash rose in beveled glass sparkling bloom in light exuding magic powers in the sleepless hours golden times will come in a cottage by the sea he will marry me pink rose in glint vase where the pearl moon is peering in teal days of spring

Premium MemberIt’s not the Birds and Bees

It’s not the birds and bees that speak;
O the colorful verbiage of flowers and trees.
It’s not the chirps or the buzz, cheek to cheek;
the waft of rose, lavender, magnolia breeze.

It’s not the high-minded sun, bright yellow;
sunflower’s reach on dizzy-toed stems.
It’s not the ebon chock full of moon-marshmallow;
It’s the intoxication of jasmine and primrose gems.

It’s not green leaves that wave in Summer season;
maple reds, snow-white pussy willows, and cherry.
It’s not the sticks and stones, nor pests high treason.
It is the birds and bees with two legs, making merry.

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