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Poems On / About ROSE  1/29/2015 6:23:33 PM
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  369.     

rising

Often when I see the sinking
sun that’s setting in the west
and better men than I start drinking
I start to think of how the best
is over, and recall the east,
where, it seems long ago, I saw
the sun when it began to rise,
and until noon began to soar
above my head in cloudless skies.
I rise with rising of the sun,
but when it sinks I start to fret,
and from its dying rays I run.
I do not wish to see it set,
but wait for something not surprising
which must happen, I feel sure,
a new day with a brand new rising
which for sunset is a cure.

Inspired by “The Rising, ” by Bruce Springsteen, which the NY Times reports has been a fight song for John Edwards in his present Presidential campaign as it was in his campaign for Vice-President in 2004. Its last lines are:

Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
Come on up for the rising
Come on up for the rising tonight


12/20/07
 
gershon hepner

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  370.     

The Rose

A rose is a flower so hardy, yet sweet,
with it, no other flower dares to compete,
with a wonderful aroma, to delight any nose,
what a wonderful flower, this ruby red rose,
it grows on a bush with many pickers,
if you're not careful you will feel it's sharp stickers,
it comes in all colors, it comes in all hues,
it makes you feel special, it chases the blues,
it is good for occasions, both happy and sad,
it brings joy to a heart and makes it feel glad,
to make someone's, happiness billow,
just place a perfect red rose upon her pillow,
you know she will raise it up to her nose,
to breathe the aroma from that wonderful rose,
I have seen many roses, red, yellow and pink,
all of them beautiful, or so I think,
there is one color that I have never seen,
that is a rose in kelly green.
so I send this rose especially to you,
breathe it's aroma, enjoy it's red hue,
now I have come to the end of my poem,
I hope this red rose brightens your home.

written by Harry Bryant
7/2/02 9: 12: 16 PM�
all rights reserved
 
Harry Bryant

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  371.     

The Black Rose

The Black Rose

Black is the Rose,
as it stands for pain!
Dead
or tainted otherwise.
A sin stained Rose
Once Red or White
A Rose with a past like shadow
A Rose with a sin so heavy,
like ink,
it swells and spreads like disease,
turning what was once,
Passion!
or
Pure!
now,
a vile flower in the bed.
We fear this flower
We fear it's color
We fear it's wrath,
as it is a path the white rose may take.
A path we wish not to make.
The Black Rose
The sin drenched,
soul tainted,
corrupted,
Black Rose
 
Wesley Mincin

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  372.     

The Rose

The Rose

The Rose is but a pedestal,
of three symbolic colors:
White,
Red,
and Black.
It may stand before the sun,
or handed as an offering,
or lay within the flower bed.
The Rose may be pure!
The Rose may know nothing but peace!
The Rose may know passion!
The Rose may be swelling with undeniable passion,
a burning fire that hungers for fulfillment.
The Rose may know pain...
sin...
corruption...
envy...
loss...
The Rose is but a blank canvas...
waiting to be painted.
 
Wesley Mincin

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