Best Rose Poems

It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
...

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
...

My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.
...

Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going, that cuts noon light
like a blue flower, without your passing
later through fog and stones,
...

The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
...

The mist has left the greening plain,
The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,
The coquette rose awakes again
Her lovely self adorning.
...

A flower was offered to me,
Such a flower as May never bore;
But I said 'I've a pretty rose tree,'
...

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
...

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.
...

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
...

A stone I died and rose again a plant;
A plant I died and rose an animal;
I died an animal and was born a man.
...

Sing we for love and idleness,
Naught else is worth the having.

Though I have been in many a land,
...

A Rose is a Rose is a Rose


A Rose will I give to you,
...

Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
...

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
...

O gather me the rose, the rose,
While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
And winter waits behind it.
...

Poems without readers
Are like lonely wallflowers
On the wide dance floor.
...

Thorn pierces blood from stem,
to make rose ever red.
Blossoms it to attract every eye,
and win all heart in the process.
...

He said he loved me! Then he called my hair
Silk threads wherewith sly Cupid strings his bow,
My cheek a rose leaf fallen on new snow;
And swore my round, full throat would bring despair
...

I love you baby
Deep from the core
Of my humble heart
Life would not be the same
...

A rose has bloomed so far,
I get smell, can't see her.

A rose has bloomed so high,
...

Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
I'd climb to touch his window
And make his casement fine.
...

Rose, harsh rose,
marred and with stint of petals,
meagre flower, thin,
sparse of leaf,
...

We plucked a red rose, you and I
All in the summer weather;
Sweet its perfume and rare its bloom,
Enjoyed by us together.
...

Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet,
Since I my pallid face between your hands have laid,
Since I have known your soul, and all the bloom of it,
And all the perfume rare, now buried in the shade;
...

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Bring the lost back to the right path
Desert rose with the silence voice
...

Dear
I love you
But ÝOU' are not you
YOU'' are that beauty
...

19

A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn—
...

My garden blazes brightly with the rose-bush and the peach,
And the koil sings above it, in the siris by the well,
From the creeper-covered trellis comes the squirrel's chattering speech,
And the blue jay screams and flutters where the cheery sat-bhai dwell.
...

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
...

I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?
...

Frail the white rose and frail are
Her hands that gave
Whose soul is sere and paler
Than time's wan wave.
...

Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, Night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
...

Hedge, that divides the lovely
Garden, and myself from me,
Never in you so fair a rose I see
...

Tell me, is the rose naked
Or is that her only dress?
...

Blue, but you are Rose, too,
and buttermilk, but with blood
dots showing through.
A little salty your white
...

Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.
...

You're dancing in flowers this lover's fair
I'm stepping on clouds floating on air,
Swinging on stars dreaming on cue
Sliding down rainbows nearer to you,
...

A rose can say I love you and want you to be mine,
A rose can say I thank you for being so very kind,
A rose can say congratulations, whatever the occasion may be,
A rose can say I miss you and wish you were here with me,
...

A house near the hill
Lit up when a sunbeam broke
Through the alto clouds.
...

A million young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads,
And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh
...

IN a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland,
At the sea-down's edge between windward and lee,
Walled round with rocks as an inland island,
The ghost of a garden fronts the sea.
...

Poetry never abandons me.
It follows me wherever I go.
It is the wreath that will be
Laid across my coffin and
...

I killed them, but they would not die.
Yea! all the day and all the night
For them I could not rest or sleep,
Nor guard from them nor hide in flight.
...

A RING of gold and a milk-white dove
Are goodly gifts for thee,
And a hempen rope for your own love
To hang upon a tree.
...

As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields;
...

Rose Red's hair is brown as fur
and shines in firelight as she prepares
supper of honey and apples, curds and whey,
for the bear, and leaves it ready
...

Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch's right hand, red as wines
From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments,
...

All June I bound the rose in sheaves.
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves
And strew them where Pauline may pass.
She will not turn aside? Alas!
...

With rue my heart is laden
For golden friends I had,
For many a rose-lipt maiden
And many a lightfoot lad.
...

...

All the while they were talking the new morality
Her eyes explored me.
And when I rose to go
Her fingers were like the tissue
...

~ SIZE ZERO ~ GROUND ZERO ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
30.11.09.
...

When I laid aside the verses of Mimnermus,
I lived a life of canned heat and raw hands,
alone, not far from my body did I wander,
walked with a hope of a sudden dreamy forest of gold.
...

I sat srinking and did not notice the dusk,
Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress.
Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream;
The birds were gone, and men also few.
...

I hop on a bus, I race for a train,
Just to get back to see you again,
I hail a late taxi, and when I get there,
'She' opens the door with a 'rose' in her hair.
...

Despite the open window in the room of long absence, the odor of the rose is still linked with the
breath that was there. Once again we are without previous experience, newcomers, in love. The
rose! The field of its ways would dispel even the effrontery of death. No grating stands in the way.
Desire is alive, an ache in our vaporous foreheads.
...

Winter's last rose; rose of regret:
O how once your radiant beauty
Shimmered in summer's potent hour.
Now your faded petals offer,
...

Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.

And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant's wreath and he besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs.
...

I have a white rose to tend
In July as in January;
I give it to the true friend
Who offers his frank hand to me.
...

A beautiful heart can always
See the wonders
In a wrinkled leaf
And dried grass.
...

It was a little budding rose,
Round like a fairy globe,
And shyly did its leaves unclose
Hid in their mossy robe,
...

If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.
...

THE PROLOGUE
Rose Marie is her name Juan-Austin her surname.
Rare Jewel is the title of honour given to her earlier
I try to create an Acrostic for Poem Hunter's most elegant and beautiful poetess,
...

All day the blanket snapped and swelled
on the line, roused by a hot spring wind....
From there it witnessed the first sparrow,
early flies lifting their sticky feet,
...

So many charming flowers loved me:
Some of them were Daisy, Lily, Jasmine and Rose
But I loved the one among them was Rose
''Rose- The Queen of flowers'',
...

They carpet the hills
Line the long winding roadways
Rainbows on the ground.
...

The dew of the dawn,
Touches my cheek and
Slides to my lips.
Oh how cold, how cold!
...

At a dim-lit dining table I sat
Alone, but a lone red rose in vase, stood
My mind's lost sojourn, she read
Confused and searching, my unusual mood
...

Big thunder rumbles
Lightning flashing many times
Horse on loose runs wild.
...

Less than the cloud to the wind,
Less than the foam to the sea,
Less than the rose to the storm,
Am I to thee.
...

He play'd his wings as tho' for flight;
They webb'd the sky with glassy light.
His body sway'd upon tiptoes,
Like a wind-perplexed rose;
...

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet
...

She came with April blooms and showers;
We count her little life by flowers.
As buds the rose upon her cheek,
We choose a flower for every week.
...

...

I have a small kite
Made of Japanese paper
Craft sticks and long string
I let it fly in the sky
...

F Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth,
He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it;
For the rose, ho, the rose! is the grace of the earth,
Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it!
...

Jimmy Wimbleton listened a first week in June.
Ditches along prairie roads of Northern Illinois
...

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?
...

Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?
...

The saintly hermit, midway through his prayers
stopped suddenly, and raised his eyes to witness
the unbelievable: for there before him stood
the legendary creature, startling white, that
...

Lark and rose go mad, even with winter
coming on, the garden beneath the verandah blooms,
the park is dense with sun and soccer balls.
By lark I mean generic bird, God knows
...

Lady, the dog that looks like a rat
Chases a beautiful Persian cat
She puts in high gear
Running like a deer
...

For one, the amaryllis and the rose;
The poppy, sweet as never lilies are;
The ripen'd vine, that beckons as it blows;
The dancing star.
...

On sweet young earth where the myrtle presses,
Long we lay, when the May was new;
The willow was winding the moon in her tresses,
The bud of the rose was told with dew.
...

Beneath my chamber window
Pierrot was singing, singing;
I heard his lute the whole night thru
Until the east was red.
...

The beauty in a rose
Breathe joy in many lives
When it is gone
Bitterness of it's love
...

Poetess Rose Marie Juan Austin
Is a beautiful Poetess,
Radiant, bright, attractive,
Like the delightful red Rose!
...

Lovely shaped seashells
That are cone and nautilus
On the wide seaside
Like pieces of memories
...

Here is dust remembers it was a rose
one time and lay in a woman's hair.
Here is dust remembers it was a woman
one time and in her hair lay a rose.
...

WHEN cold December
Froze to grisamber
The jangling bells on the sweet rose-trees--
Then fading slow
...

When Love arose in heart and deed
To wake the world to greater joy,
'What can she give me now?' said Greed,
Who thought to win some costly toy.
...

Ants work in silence
Their success makes a loud noise
On cold rainy days
...

Hast thou named all the birds without a gun;
Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk;
At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse;
Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust;
...

To my seven dear friends of Poem Hunter
Sylvia, Rose, Bharati, Indira, Susan, Sandra & Varsha!

I just wanted to express my feelings,
...

I will not have the mad Clytie,
Whose head is turned by the sun;
The tulip is a courtly queen,
Whom, therefore, I will shun;
...

Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
...

No man's sounds at all
Only the gentle swishing
Of leaves in the trees
The rhythmic chirping of birds
...

Poetry is another world
Like the sea and the ocean
Some learned to dance
With its rhythm and mysteries
...

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care!
...