Dark Roses Are Red Poems
These Dark Roses Are Red poems are examples of Roses Are Red poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Roses Are Red Dark poems written by international poets.
When roses are red and violets are blue,
each is a lovely, sentimental hue.
But the color of blood is also red,
and now my love, as you're gone and dead,
the color of velvet is tinged dark-blue,
and I still cry through my tears for you.
Categories:
roses are red, blue, dark, death, roses
Infernal Flame
Beneath the gothic arches, his gaze held fast,
In candlelit chambers, their desires impure,
Whispers like velvet, dark seduction amassed,
Her raven hair beckons, with sinful allure,
Blood-red roses fell, memories of lovers past,
In shadowed embrace, their dark tale would occur,
A forbidden love, born from infernal fire,
A raging passion of unbridled desire.
Categories:
roses are red, dark, fantasy, gothic, love,
he is tall and dark
gentle strong hands tender heart
brown eyes deep like sea
plant peace inside me
he gave me twelve red roses
pearly smile shining
Categories:
roses are red, appreciation, black love, red,
Sunday quote, and new poem-
( “And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief” – William Cullen Bryant )
Sad At Twilight Hour Love's Paradise Can Be Lost, With Sunday Quote
Sad at twilight hour love's paradise can be lost
Same as horrid death delivered by ole Jack Frost
Wherein dies the beauty of rose and its great fame
And the bright garden that once set ones' soul aflame
Alas! But such reminds this truth-life is no game.
Sad at twilight hour love's paradise can be lost.
Life gives and it takes, oft at very heavy costs.
Robert J. Lindley, 4-24-2022
Rhyme, ( When dark reigns and all seems lost )
Categories:
roses are red, art, beauty, destiny, life,
Each petal, leaf, each vein, each thorn, not any one the same,
Stand tall in there duty protecting Their tillage from the dark winged shadows circling the sky's mains
The wind slightly changes and they sway so waiting on the rain.
Each is there own colour with shades all with different names.
Same race, different names, different colours , different shapes and different mothers.
Many layers and characteristic ways and some blooming, others blossoming and some like to sleep away there days.
Sometimes the wind peels off a layer, and at times the rain lay heavy weighing them down until they drop to the ground, leaving no armour.
The sun singes there edges making them burnt and different to the eye.
Sometimes they are open,sometimes closed, but there's one thing that everyone knows about the beautiful, elegant and regal garden guard's ,
that in all there differences, one thing they all were created with in traits,
That they all smell the same, Subtle but intense, delicate and strong.
It's that distinct fragrance, it's the smell of the ROSE.
.
Categories:
roses are red, environment, flower, garden, meaningful,
The Cat
It is late,
nearly half-past nine.
You are asleep beside me.
The clock on the wall is too loud.
I need to buy another.
This one is a cat,
with eyes that move.
I do not think I like the way...
it looks at me,
in the dark,
in the night.
I reach over to the light,
and switch it off.
The black immediately surrounds me.
Yet I find...
I am not afraid.
He is with me.
The room is quiet,
and I can speak of the day,
I can open my heart,
and give Him my soul...
as I am safe.
Then I pray for my man,
and all those I love.
The days ahead are rough,
and...
full of thorns.
We need to remember,
there is yet, one last moment...
to share.
Waste it not.
Meow. (Amen.)
Categories:
roses are red, addiction, atheist, christian, hope,
What if time was really timeless
Like some minds are really mindless
Does my mind need to remind us
That even the alive can still be lifeless
And if your high you can be flightless
Live in the dark in the middle of brightness
Name your price even though its Priceless
When we write we really just type this
Some have sight but live in the blindness
Like those with spines who are spineless
To the ones that sigh even in silence.
Categories:
poetry, roses are red,
Roses are red
Tree bark is brown
I don't want to be killed
By a murderous clown
Roses are red
Dragons blow fire
I really want
To live in the Shire
Roses are red
Darkness is dark
The wind moans and howls
While the crazy dog barks
Roses are red
So is blood
Once I slipped
And fell in some mud
Categories:
roses are red,
If rhyme belittles verse then let it be;
At night the sun outshines eclipsing moon.
And though no green is seen on any tree,
By shrouds of dark unwind the bright cocoon.
Around in circles back to where we start,
Let footsteps never trace or hold your hand;
I’ve seen you smile. I’ve felt my breathless heart.
I’ve written poems I don’t understand.
Yet, who am I to speak, besides unknown?
In truth, I often ask the very same.
From youthful chords reverb an ancient tone;
My measures merely sing without a name,
But yours I whisper; may joy be upon it;
This poet declares your beauty his sonnet.
Categories:
roses are red,
Small town, broken window houses
dead roses hang in kitchens
leftovers of other women
who eat beef in dark rooms.
We are not like them.
Don't touch us, not ready.
Our oven mitts are on.
Men can knob themselves
while we grind knives.
We don't want to be under the pale man
who puts his spoon in his cheek and moans.
We are good girls. No need to explain
why roses hang stiff and feel soggy.
How many licks will it take
before we peel off our panties
like we strip onions for soup.
Men can guess, but dampness
is not a sign. Liquids leak
when the onion is hacked,
breaking cells and releasing
a distinctive odor on tips.
Categories:
roses are red, daughter, engagement, girlfriend, little