Woman Rose Poems | Examples
These Woman Rose poems are examples of Rose poems about Woman. These are the best examples of Rose Woman poems written by international poets.
The Look
Distinction
The Eyes
Beauty
The Embrace
Emotion guaranteed
The Hand
Secured
The Kiss
Fireworks Connection
Moon Romance
Enchanted
The Arrow
Attention
Wine Sip
Refreshing
The Dance
Man and Woman
The Hug
Devoted
Wedding
Commitment as One
Interlude
Love Fire
Honeymoon
Together as Husband and Wife
Everlasting
Love in a new life
Color of rose
Same as lipstick
So beautiful.
Reposed in shadows
within a realm of colors
dusty rose gown blurs.
All the flowers she adores ~
as gold love's beamed out of doors.
Green and purple blooms
are always in her warm face ~
'til she sinks in grace.
Exquisite pinks golds and blues
fade out, as plum night ensues.
As night falls, a dark melody
fills the air with a feeling so deep
it is the song of a dark rose
tweeting near a corner fence.
Dahlia, a withered pale woman
lies on a granite slab, still and serene
The song transforms the air, calm
infuse her chill cells, pungent.
Cells overhaul false refluxes
taint her veins with lethal hues
rose rummages the window
like a creeper it probes in disguise.
A noise of a phantom stirs in the void
The deadbeat song reaches its peak
undermining her heart waves
the roaming restless phantom roars.
"Who is the next cadaver to join me?''
then dark rose turns from grey to white
the source of the call slowly deranges
with the rise of a promising dawn.
The sunrays pack her vitals with life
a dark rose is reborn, its music unheard
may *Prana saves helpless cadavers once again
a wish for a dark song seems wanted.
*Prana, a Sanskrit word meaning breath, a life-giving force.
there was a softness about the maiden that reminded me of a rose
she was elusive, but it made her somehow tantalizing
refined? yes Elegant? oh, my, yes!
She was holding a rose when I first spied her.
she seemed as subtle and sensitive as the rose
She was an artist's delight; her petals soft and delicate.
what is her name? I asked her mother
Lily, she told me.
I want to call her Rose, I said.
Funny you should say that; her grandmother was named Rose.
To be a woman is to be a rose
Beauty that can by all be admired
Thorns around to prevent being plucked
By those in this world who show desire
Forever like a rose, I shall be
To prevent being picked as I once was
By someone who did not come close to deserving
Of my midnight beauty to be beloved
I listened to leaves rustling the other day; talking in a dialect of tree
As I lived in a waking dream; that evening, their words became filled with clarity
They spoke of the woman; who had arms around me, a human singularity
Someone glowing bright; with life giving light, in the color shade of serenity
Whose touches; provide happiness, in reflection, back to her radiantly
As I learn the language of a rose, a season evolves; of remarkable serendipity
All I know, there's no way to measure; the time spent with you, in units of mere positivity
Rose Meadow, an outcast woman,
portrayed by Fertie Fields.
The film chronicles her Pagan beliefs.
A supporting cast boasts
Roland (Rollie) Hills and Hayden Hayfield.
Cameos by Misty Marsh and Lily Lake.
Marquee brags of Nature’s spiritual mysteries
comprising the life of Rose Meadow.
Look at those meadows
dressed in green.
Such an amazing pink rose
is growing among them.
Disguised with colours,
as a woman out from her shade
to discover a rose
with petals and not only pins.
In the warmest of weather and harshest of conditions
lives a special rose
You see... she carries herself with a smile
everywhere she goes
It's peace she seeks to make
between every woman and man
and even for the youngsters
who yet to understand...
that this world that we live in
can be more than endless war
it can be love amonsgst brothers and sisters
where peace is an even score
The message that this desert rose has
is a simple one for you
that if you look into your heart
you can be a special rose too
Unsure of the wisdom of getting married that day,
the young woman stood in the garden
of her groom-to-be.
Rarely entirely confident of any big decisions,
she trembled underneath
her beautiful white sequinned wedding gown.
She pondered and pondered,
but anything bad that entered her mind
had barely any weight
compared with all the good of the man she loved!
Suddenly her gaze fell upon the rose bush.
Although it was early November,
one passionately red rose still bloomed there,
tall and poised – ready for romance!
As if by fate, a brilliantly red cardinal
alighted nearby the rose and cocked his tiny head at her
as if mocking her for her foolhardiness.
She recalled that seeing a cardinal meant good fortune,
Smiling then, she turned enthusiastically,
headed for wedded bliss.
Jan. 6, 2023
For Brian Strand's the 'SECOND CHANCE ' Poetry Contest
Hospital visit
I sit in the waiting room there are no magazines
to read anymore, everybody has mobile phones look
at photos of themselves and friends.
I drink coffee from the coffee dispenser is bland as
the hospital walls
Two women sit nearby; one has her hair in a big bun
the other has a smaller on-top of her air, middle-aged
worries about the grandchildren, but outwardly calm.
A woman sitting in an electric wheelchair rolls in
she is not well, opens a plastic bag and throws up
A nurse hurries into the room; this is an emergency
wheels her into a treatment room.
My wife comes out, a big smile on her African face
no, she has not got cancer but needs knee surgery.
She is a colourful sight and wears many rings and bracelets
today, she is dressed in bright red and green, lights up
the dour hospital ambience.
We drink coffee in the canteen while she tells me about
her painful left knee
Most Beloved Woman I Lost
was in my heart, as enchanted rose
that I didn't harvest, I didn't cultivate...!
Pink rose, plucked from its garden of sweet earth,
laid fondly on her grave to venerate
a woman of inestimable worth
on this, her day of birth I celebrate -
one rose to join the rose who gave me birth.
[Sicilian Quintain]
A pink rose signifies gratitude, admiration, and appreciation,
commemorating grace, joy, and sweetness -
3 traits of my beloved mother, Elizabeth Watt
born Sep 14th, 1919, died Apr 2nd, 2017
Written 13 Sept 2022
Softened in pink skin
velvety naked woman
burns flower of love