Roses are red and some of them white--
others are pink, orange, or coral -- light;
but, what they mean -- like night and day;
just listen to what the roses say.
petals spreading panoptically
sucking in Spring warmth
hot Summer's heat
sun rays of Autumn's
dying coolness
Winter's frigidity
steadfastly clinging
to her winding vine
heart of Rose
invites sweet halcyon
breath hot Helios breathes
from age unknown
until he kisses earth
one final time to bid his Rose
farewell
La Luna's Rose
her perfect counterpart
stands perfectly erect
in azure arms full-wrapping him
in all her balmy rapture
of bright night
her shades and shadows
dancing in wet fields of dew
Both Rose's on one vibrant
verdure bed
amidst unseeing
sexless denizens
remained as one entwined
protective thorns their sentries
every step full-armed
against intrusive arms
whose plucking fingers
still, remain at large
By night, one stately Rose
embraces with his petals, wet,
one lovely Rose upon her
floral bed to sounds of Epithalmion
uttered sweetly by mute minstrels
echoed in the night
two Roses: red
the other, white.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 477 times
Written on 2007-01-26 at 00:10
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others are pink, orange, or coral -- light;
but, what they mean -- like night and day;
just listen to what the roses say.
Two Perfect Roses
Center bud widenspetals spreading panoptically
sucking in Spring warmth
hot Summer's heat
sun rays of Autumn's
dying coolness
Winter's frigidity
steadfastly clinging
to her winding vine
heart of Rose
invites sweet halcyon
breath hot Helios breathes
from age unknown
until he kisses earth
one final time to bid his Rose
farewell
La Luna's Rose
her perfect counterpart
stands perfectly erect
in azure arms full-wrapping him
in all her balmy rapture
of bright night
her shades and shadows
dancing in wet fields of dew
Both Rose's on one vibrant
verdure bed
amidst unseeing
sexless denizens
remained as one entwined
protective thorns their sentries
every step full-armed
against intrusive arms
whose plucking fingers
still, remain at large
By night, one stately Rose
embraces with his petals, wet,
one lovely Rose upon her
floral bed to sounds of Epithalmion
uttered sweetly by mute minstrels
echoed in the night
two Roses: red
the other, white.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 477 times
Written on 2007-01-26 at 00:10
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
