Love Rose Poems | Examples
These Love Rose poems are examples of Rose poems about Love. These are the best examples of Rose Love poems written by international poets.
Written for the prompt Rose Moon 15 - 25 words set by Poets Island via Instagram
Eclipsed hips part, unearthing
a rose moon in bloom,
opal sighs glimmer,
ruby heat spills, sitting
bodies ablaze in molten embrace.
if
love
be
this
white cloud
rose
that
open
and
close
i
shall
cleave
thy
heart
for
thee
this
white
cloud rose
Me and my love, are like two roses, we love each other so much, that we grew together, side by side.
We choose to be red, for our love is so strong, like the blood of life, we live in each other’s arms, feeling each other all through life.
We smell the same, like the sweetest scent that has ever been found.
Just the touch of our love, can make us feel like we are in heaven mist.
My rose is here in my hand; it smells so sweet it makes me have feeling of loving endlessly.
My rose is red like my blood, reminding me of life and its endless cycle of love.
Like a kiss from nature, our bond makes us feel amazingly.
My rose blooms beautifully and comes back every year, to make me smile again and again.
Lifting prayers to God, for all the love.
Did you hear about the rose
that bloomed in Harlem-
through concrete cracks, through chaos,
through prayers gone thin in steam?
A winter rose
shouldn’t bloom in this blaze-
but you, baby girl, unfold anyway.
Concrete beneath you,
sirens above,
a million ghosts whispering tough love.
You glide past bodegas and busted swings,
past aunties hollering from painted stoops,
past brothers pacing—palms tight with truth.
I watch your curls bounce down One-One-Four,
your laugh a lavender miracle,
soft, sure,
still surviving-
thriving-
in a garden that forgets to welcome
delicate things.
Still, I worry-
that the city might carve its name
into your softness
before you know
you are sacred.
That the sidewalk might swallow you
before you burst.
But Wynter,
you are no damsel,
no flower waiting for rescue.
You are named for frost,
raised in fire,
rooted in rhythms older than this street.
You rise with sunlight,
spin storms into dance,
and grow wild-
like you’ve always known
you could.
Here we are
just him and I
beneath a tell-tale sky of high.
I
hanging on
like a rose on a trellis,
in a garden of love !
He
like a lattice
sure and steady.
Worship dreams of valor
everything else is
just a paler shade of
blue...
Here we are
the open sky and I
and the One who seeded me
like a rose in a garden
of pure perfection!
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(({{{@}}})) % Roses say a lot,
Both in scent and how they look,
..””””.. Admire all of her
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ROSE
soft pink
pastel red
reminiscent love
a youthful memory
buried in the seams of time
“bittersweet fragrance lingers on”
Placed third
Pyramids Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Your love is like the sun, shining bright every day, making my heart warm and giving me a feeling of sweet embrace.
Forever love, your love is felt, today and always, you're in my heart.
A Rose, is but a Rose
It's Beauty is divine.
The scent of a Rose can drive you wild.
The Rose is delicate and pure
It comes in different scents , colours and sizes .
All which are a delight.
A Rose is so heavenly,
For Beauty is in the beholder and the Rose is one of those beauties.
There is romance in a Rose for the one that gives and the the one that receives.
The sentiment of the Rose is what says
L o v e
Sincere for all who hold dear to Love.
Yesterday was your birthday
Unfortunately, that was a busy day
However, I went to the garden
Of my heart this beautiful morning
Where I picked an invisible rose that could bring:
Happiness, joy, good humor and an early spring.
I shaved my beard and mustache to make your day
With all my heart, I wish you a happy birthday
Oh! I would like to charm you until nightfall
When the rainbow is no more in the fall
Toward another horizon, for another season
Please accept this rose, this poem, this song.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to my good friend.
Copyright © August 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Thriving in the sun she sways inside her garden
each time a fragrant wind arrives from the sea
Her lavender blooms fill the earth with pardon
she bends at will like a tiny bud young and free
She is a rare and beautiful blue moon in my hand
pulled from the ground she sets my heart aglow
when I inhale her, ... then I begin to understand
why she is my favorite rose, why I love her so
Giving always giving, she is the perfect flower
loosely scented in my home she is fragrance
convening with my senses with elongated hour
this little rose of mine, means love & romance
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
By Poet "Great memories are the best kind to have but some memories bring a waterfall of tears."
all little girls like to play dress up
mom had great hats, bags and pearls
her pretty white pearl necklace was long
around my neck
hitting my knees
her floppy hats were very colorful
the big red one almost covered my face
bringing out my pink rose blush tiny cheeks
I loved her big colorful bags
some with straps some with metal chains
playing for hours made me all grown up
at the time I did not know value
of this costume pretty white pearl necklace
a few dollars when new
years later I found them
new she only paid a few dollars
now all these years later I found them
where she left them sitting in an old box
the precious jewels I played with for hours
now with meaning more than if they were real pearls
If I could go back in time,
I’d go back to when I believed in soulmates
the way I believe the stars in the night sky
guide us to a predetermined destiny.
Poorly illuminated by the moon,
leaving you to seek yourself intentionally.
Well,
I’ve learned you can throw away fate
when you make an extremist choice,
deviating against that destiny.
Like salmon in the springtime,
we kill ourselves only to respawn,
and reinvent new regret
in search of things we think we need
but already possess.
Now,
I don’t mean to come off as nihilistic or depressed,
but I’m slowly starting to stop believing in prepackaged outcomes,
and have come to the conclusion
that only children believe in soulmates.
At least I did when I was a kid.
Now I know for certain,
love only exists when it’s convenient,
and the stars, more often than not,
pick favorites.
A red rose blooms in morning light,
Soft petals kissed by dew so bright.
A whisper of love, a silent flame,
In crimson grace, it speaks your name.