Funeral Rose Poems | Examples
These Funeral Rose poems are examples of Rose poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Rose Funeral poems written by international poets.
So plant it on that petrichoric soil in rows
As you bring at my funeral that pure ruby rose
And so? If I'm unable to perceive it's essence
Don't shatter either penalize it in a burst of incense
Then nourish it with spring warm water to lush
And let it expand on more roses to reserve for Mush
Thus let a lover pluck a part of them for his muse
So that I would cherish it's use and you can be excused
So allow it to make my cemetery more graceful in the graveyard
Indeed, my love , pick your favourite and have it in your yard
Let it bloom and thrive in the sight of your field
So that , I can be there for your eyes to be healed
And if you ever feel dull to look at them in the autumn
Rest your heart, dig them up and burry them in the bottom
PS: Palwasha Sharif
Painted daisies, baby's breath beside roses
Chrysanthemums, carnations beside roses
Red roses beside pink roses
Still, Rose is gone; Petals fresh, ... dried, and crushed.
Dawn and dusk, and melted musk
Settle upon the dust-covered roses, covering Rose
For a grieving mother, pain goes the extra mile, it wilts her soul and destroys her smile.
A burden so heavy as she carries that cross, no one can imagine the reality of her loss
Her existence is tormented by the struggles through life, the pain so unbearable, it cuts her like a knife
The demon of pain imprisons her mind, joy, and laughter she will rarely find.
God, what is the purpose? I do not understand, I thought you were our king and savior, the one that made the plans
The pain is evil and never goes away, it makes a mother think
"why in the hell do I have to stay?"
Years have gone by and most everything’s the same, that rose once so beautiful is now destroyed by her pain, but...
She continues to fight her demons until the day God calls her home,
With wilted petals on the ground as the rose remains alone.
By Karen Powell. ©
The Rose is the ultimate floral Queen!
A radiant beauty. Colourful blooms.
A feature of any idyllic scene.
Some live in gardens, others brighten rooms.
Delicate. Precious to the beholder.
A symbol of affection in romance.
Nestled in a lapel 'neath a shoulder
For a wedding, a funeral, a dance.
Appreciate their glory. Sing their song!
A sweet aroma have some, others none.
Don't take them for granted. They don't stay long.
Suddenly they season out and are gone!
Spiky leaves and petals tender,
Grace our vision with their splendor.
Written 17th September 2022
(My first Sonnet)
Let destiny create a distance...
Firestorm of roses will set an inferno...
Arrow goading the scented sceneries.
Maniac in love, heartlands of homophiles.
Lovely heart cradled in my lover's arms...
Glass dome saving the last petal...
Canvass the soil for a sepal...
Eclipse eyes yearning forever this memory,
Century of love marking romantique history,
Chancery charming this unsettled elapse...
Bowing on the vow of your untangled fragrance,
Heart on your heart always.
Royal red sparkling in cashmere leaves
lustrous smile of a beautiful princess
dainty petals fondling an innocent heart
in virgin crimson blends a merlot caress.
Lures of wine in folds of butterfly wings
gentle love breathes, soaked in fragrance
blossoming wild vibes of seductive blush
patience twinkles in passion of radiance.
A serenade whirlpool of mystical romance
a sunset by sea, alive in poems and prose
yet weeping in your funeral, adorned you lay,
scattered on your tomb, ...O Royal Rose.
13th November 2021
Sponsor Robert James Liguori
Contest Name Rose |
He bought me a rose today!
Beautiful red rose was his daily routine.
I expected the red rose every day,
that this man loves me , is what it means.
Despite his angry tantrums
where he would curse me, spit
& even choke me until I couldn't breathe
or viciously beat me, kick me
until I crumbled to my knees.
He would bring me a red rose after,
& tell me it would never happen again
and even though I know it was a huge lie
I know it didn't take away the love I had for him.
I didn't want it to end.
He would hurt me continuously
and even hurt me in front of my friend
who would always encourage me to get away from him
but his actions I would always defend.
I just waited for that red rose.
It made me feel like everything would be okay,
I mean, nobody is perfect. Right?
Isn't that what people say?
That red rose meant he loved me
and you may wonder what I said lovED
because now I'm watching him bring me a red rose,
lay it on my casket, from above.
I'm hearing him tell me sorry,
as I watch the tears fall softly from his face.
I forgive him, I know he loves me
because he brought me a beautiful red rose today!
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
A rose by any other name
Is disgraceful to the rose
No other flower has such fame
Among all those seen in shows
Whether at a funeral or a wedding
The rose stands out more
At a birth, or a special setting
The rose is sure to score
I have no doubt about this gem
To bring joy to whom it is given
A single rose on one long stem
Is like a small touch of heaven
What's in a name, you say
It's just another flower
It will die and fade away
Yes, but it's the flower of the hour
20 October 2019
Writing Challenge, October 2019 -Flower Challenge-
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
her funeral flowers
magnificent aroma
roses remind me
preciously gathered
from her sister's funeral
each rose petal
Submitted on July 15, 2018 for contest MID JULY 2018 PREMIERE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
Posted on July 13, 2018
She loved
broken things
like she loved
the petals
of withered roses,
that scattered
for their own funeral
like strewed confetti-
which a lover
may have dropped
unintentionally
or intentionally-
crushed
under branded shoes
and under the wheels
of the cars
driven
by unsparing drivers
who aren’t troubled
by squeezing life
out of humans,
let alone a flower;
and she called it
‘modern art’.
When England’s fairest rose
strained to find a light
neath the monarchy’s shadows,
such passion did she incite.
Many are the years since
Lady Diana Spencer
met and married her prince,
believing that he loved her.
Unrequited affection
she tried to brush aside.
Poised was her reflection;
tears she sought to hide.
Princess Di’s quest for love
drew her to the masses,
who adored this precious dove,
more fragile than glass is.
A candle caught by harsh wind,
extinguished far too young,
left the monarchy chagrined;
her popularity stung.
In death as she was in life,
she’s treasured in people’s hearts,
for kindness is always rife
in the love a People’s Princess imparts.
*Inspired by Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind,” which he performed at Diana’s funeral.
It was a day like all the rest as off to work I went
Surely to face a new test for as such is life meant
But this time as I went I prayed in a different way
And the message He sent I'll never forget that day
On 95 nearing the airport and that ever present smell
Roll up the windows I exhort passing over Exxon and Shell
Instead of my daily prayer, today I just sung out His praise
And over the bridge I made my way as God would again amaze
I closed all of the windows and I even shut off the vent
When up through my nose I get this beautiful rosy scent
Like a funeral parlor or flower shop the scent was so strong
And this scent just wouldn't stop for that bridge is pretty long
Immediately I had recognized in always knowing of His Way
So I wasn't really surprised yet "in this" this is what I pray
I need not even one sign though I have seen so many signs galore
"Lord, give to them mine, You've given me so much I need for nothing more"
As I stand here in front of my closet , starring in to the space...
I wonder which black dress to choose, and how I am going to face..
All the guests that will be there , at your final resting place...
I look in the mirror and what do I see ?
But cuts and scratches all over me...
Although I don’t feel any physical pain...
Oh, what’s that I hear ?..could it be rain ?
I miss you already...what went wrong ?..
We were driving along just listening to our favorite song...
I remember the curve on that old mountain road...
And then heard the train crash... and then explode...
Time to go called out my Mother...
It was a cold November morning, and very heavy rain...
And I swear I heard the whistle of a train...
As I looked around I could see...
So many friends and family...
Standing in the crowd was Aunt Sarah and Uncle Fred...
OMG ! I thought they were dead...
And there’s dear old Michael...
I had heard he crashed his motorcycle...
All of a sudden I saw YOU stand...
With a bright red rose, you held in your hand...
What are you doing I wanted to shout...
But then I realized what you were about...
You dropped the rose upon MY grave...
It was then I realized You were the one that was saved...
it lies there alone,
one flower, on a coffin
that the flag once adorned
carrying the soldier home,
brave hero, an only son.
White roses were strewn,
when the cortege was driven
through crowded lined streets,
a flowered road of goodbyes
written in the rose of hope
April 7 2013