Rose Poems
Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
......
Briefly It Enters, And Briefly Speaks
by Jane Kenyon
I am the blossom pressed in a book,
found again after two hundred years. . . .
I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper. . . .
When the young girl who starves
sits down to a table
she will sit beside me. . . .
I am food on the prisoner's plate. . . .
......
Waterfall
by Lauris Dorothy Edmond
I do not ask for youth, nor for delay
in the rising of time's irreversible river
that takes the jewelled arc of the waterfall
in which I glimpse, minute by glinting minute,
all that I have and all I am always losing
as sunlight lights each drop fast, fast falling.
I do not dream that you, young again,
might come to me darkly in love's green darkness
where the dust of the bracken spices the air
......
Presents From My Aunts In Pakistan
by Moniza Alvi
They sent me a salwar kameez
&nb sp; peacock-blue,
& nbsp; and another
glistening like an orange split open,
embossed slippers, gold and black
&nbs p; points curling.
Candy-striped glass bangles
&n bsp; snapped, drew blood.
Like at school, fashions changed
&n bsp; in Pakistan -
......
The Glory Of The Garden
by Rudyard Kipling
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;
But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.
For where the thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,
You will find the tool- and potting-sheds which are the heart of all;
The cold-frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks,
The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrows and the planks.
......
Scarlet Arising
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Hot sun
a stirring
in scarlet hours.
Sleeping beauty rises
Red rose.
Fragrance
drifts afar
on unseen wings.
Under the golden spell
......
The Night Club
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
For years I was an aspiring singer, performing in trendy nightspots,
And I sang my heart out each evening, in all of the local hotspots.
Among the enthusiastic locals, at long last I'd made myself a name,
As we remember a rich golden sun, for the colors of his dying flame!
Despite this major accomplishment, I yet found myself dissatisfied,
As the sun grew dissatisfied, when full moon would not be his bride.
Being ambitious I craved the big time, with all of its fine rewards,
......
Becoming
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
The purplish crimson sun's now arising,
And buds are waiting on yellow rosebush.
Yesterday lessons for today are guiding,
As birds take violet skies of dawn hush.
The youth grew so quickly, time's ambush!
A Beauty Called Rose
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
She illuminates even the dreariest places,
With all of the vibrant colors she puts on,
Trailing sweet fragrance through the hours,
Her vague memory putting smiles upon faces!
Her visage glows in the wonder of sunny days,
A spring debutante, aging in summer's glaze.
Silent and mysterious, an enigmatic dreamer,
Vivaciously spreading joy, where she visits.
Star of noon gardens, where cardinals croon,
She is cherished by everyone, under the moon.
......
The Sun Rose Very Rose
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Nighttime ebony hues, turned to lovely shades of rose,
And a creamy moon yet shone, about to make its escape.
The song of praise commenced from the emerald treetops,
And other stirrings began the summer's day happenings.
I had awakened by and by, to dreamy roses in the sky!
I was pleased that day, a golden sun was coming my way,
With beauty in its wake, in charmed customary fashion.
The roses from my garden, sat fragrantly in the vase,
Waiting in silent patience, for deep admiration to go by.
A wonderful beginning to an exceedingly promising day,
......
