Golden Rose
At last a rose it grows, a beautiful recourse,
Floating in the tides, a shallow clear remorse.
Not known how tall to grow, yet pedals rowed, by pinkish row.
All colors of the skies so lyrical, like the deepest morning rainbows glow.
In heaven brow to reach her tip,
Grow sweetly, softly, with waters sip.
Hazel thorns of green and brown.
Not wanting , or speaking ghastly sounds,
Grounds beneath with worms that crawl,
Ingesting seed and bearing all.
To the sun, she smiles for thee,
An everlasting golden tree.
Grow to the stars, to angel eyes.
As flaming swords in hells demise,
My flower, last eternally tall.
As stem and leaf and pedals fall.
For in the earth, or vastness blue,
This golden rose I give to you.
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Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 9th, 2025 06:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Poetic Licence, Cheeky Missy, DeadRose
Offline)
Comments3
A poem with such a common subject yet so unique. It grows as the poem flows and with such wonderful imagery painted in detail that fits the metaphor so well. It evolves so nicely and patiently like the flower it blooms in poetic beauty and has to be a fave
Thanks. I have a few rose poems I rambled off and decided to post a few. Lol. Thanks again for your kind words.
A lovely day write with beautiful imagery, reads really nicely and as is with the flower we evolve and eventually bloom, lovely write
the words flow out so beautifully, and touch the heart with its simplicity, and yet lovely imagery
thanks for sharing
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