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Azarel Jan 8
Hush, little rose, the night has been long,
Petals bruised and battered, yet still, you grow strong.
The care you seek will one day arrive,
But for now, your stem stands poised, alive.

Hush, little rose, though your storm feels unending,
Allow me to offer you solace and shelter, unbending.
Your thorns don’t scare me; I’ve bled before,
For scars tell a story that resilience bore.
So let me hold you, even if just tonight,
For in your tempest, kindred spirits unite.

Hush, little rose, forsaken and astray,
By gods who turned their backs and looked away.
Together, we can carve a new way,
No longer lost, we’ve found our light,
A quaint ember burning through the endless night.

Lean on me, and I’ll never let go,
For in your pain, a part of me continues to grow.

Hush, little rose, there’s no need to stand so tall,
Release yourself from the scars that shackle all.
Remove the mask you wear, let your weary soul rest,
If only for tonight, let me bear the weight in your chest.
Crumble in my arms; I’ll keep you whole,
You can break apart knowing I’ll guard your soul.

Hush, little rose, let the darkness seep,
I’ll hold you close when the shadows creep.
For you are not your storms, nor your fears—
You are the quiet strength behind your tears.

Let love be gentle, let it unfold,
Not the fire that consumes, but the warmth that holds.
There’s no need to burn for love to be true,
Let it be a love that softly cradles you.

Hush, little rose, the night has been long,
But in our shared silence, we’ve found a song.
No longer alone, no longer astray,
Together, we’ve forged the dawn of a new day.
This was a poem written for someone special. Someone who has had struggles understanding what love could be. Along with going through an incredibly difficult healing journey. To really show support towards them.
Violet rose ...

And darkness fell ...
My imagination wandered ...
Through the window of my madness ...
To a woman ...
Her beauty ...
And her tenderness ...
Like the violet rose ...
Which it only ...
And no other ...
Refreshes my breath ...
Like the most delicate breeze ...
Takes me now to you ...

My eyes got lost ...
And traveled with wings Madness...
With the magnificence of your body...
That resident of my memory...
To feel the warmth...
In whole my body...
From the fragrant scents...
you are the rose in it...
Alone...
and the unique one...
For the gardens of my imagination...

Yes, my love...
Alone only...
Rose...
With me...
Now...
In the bed of my imagination...

Hazem...
Idil Dec 2024
A puddle formed,
A deep scarlet red morphed,
Beneath me it lay;
Matched the red of my cheeks,
The red of my shoes,
The red of my nails,
There it lay,
The dark engulfing red of the rose,
Such a gorgeous sight,
Such a strong might,
Covered in the pale white snow,
But what is that?
Dripping from my palm?
Is it the same red?
The colour of wine?
It can’t be
It was so free,
Such beauty cannot be so harmful;
It was the thorn of the rose that cut me so deep.
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2024
She unravels herself like a rose  
In the palm of my hand.  
Some of her petals break off  
And lay to the side
The pain of growth,  
Making room for something new.  

She looks me in the eye,  
The tension of letting go  
Of reasonable fear.  
Too many lonely nights.  
The crescent moon of every lie  
Hovers over her head.  

Piece by piece,  
She's laid that insecurity in my hands,  
That uncertainty in her eyes,  
Slowly turning into trust.  
Seeing that I didn’t discard  
The pieces of her that flaked off,  
In my hands.  
Regardless of how bad they look,  
They are a part of her.  

She twists and she turns,  
Her thorns piercing my skin,  
One after another.  
With confidence, I don’t have to tell her  
That I am not afraid.  
But I do so anyway.  

The crescent moon that hangs  
Above her head fills out  
And becomes full.  
As comfortable as she seems,  
Fear still lingers.  
No matter how much she  
Lets go,  
She's been let down before.  

In time, my hands will become  
A vase that will protect her from harm,  
And my heart a place  
That will warm her always.  
When the day comes she knows,  
With certainty, that I am not afraid,  
I will still tell her
I am not afraid
Jenish Dec 2024
I bent my mind like a bamboo tree to experience the fragrance of her soul, and in return, I received a bouquet of flowers sprinkled with the earthly happiness of love. She opened her rosy heart for me to smell and share until the rain as soft as tears, wiped the imprints away forever. Even the splash of golden sunlight, trying daily to flood the void of my stolen heart, could not succeed, for the wound was larger than anything that could heal.

Petals fall and fade,
heart once bloomed socked in the rain,
wounded heart still ached.
Haibun
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2024
In every petal lies a tale untold,
Of grace and power intertwined as one.
A world of wonder, fierce and yet so bold,
Where love and strength unite beneath the sun.
In these eyes – I’ve seen a woman’s world…

___

It’s a rose, enchanting, blooms with beauty rare,
Yet danger lurks within its soft embrace.
A tender touch of love, a whispered prayer,
But I ask if it has the strength to hold its place?

Still in quiet thought, I dwell and muse,  
As a man reflects on such; alas his worldly views,  
My words a burden felt heavy, and steep,  
For in such a world, my voice shan’t speak.
The writer of songs wishes to compose for his lover yet to come,
he asks the night if she will come as a floret in the wind
to caress him as a candle’s light, the lyrical harmony of
his beloved is clearer than the shower of the spheres
upon the deep violet petals, he rests into slumber
as a dreamlike vision appears of her hands softer
than velvet in motion upon the strings of the mandolin,
the gazes of him and her rivet as the one, gentle hymn of their souls,
he harrowingly arouses then walks to his thistly rose garden, revelation
arrives to him so he returns home to begin the inking of the symbols
on the music sheet papers, through his symphonies, he
resolves to tell the endless fables of love and tragedy.
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2024
In a garden where red flags do love to sway,  
Our pink eyes instead see beauty, but not the fray.  
Though the mix of colour are rose’s gleam,  
The thorns are hidden in a deeper scheme,  
And the sharpness can lead two hearts astray.
Carlos Nov 2024
Lay me to rest in a field of roses, Where the roots unfurl to my decaying heart, Gracefully feasting on the love I have for you, Further spreading to my brain.
To drink every thought and treasured memory of you, As the sun beams, blooming serenely to the lukewarm touch, Recollecting memories of your tender hug.
The lingering scent of roses, your fragrant echo of memories past. As the sun descends, the petals retreat to a serene slumber, Comforted by your watchful gaze among the stars.
And when the field of roses is gathered by a devoted admirer, The moment he offers them to her, May the flowers bloom and radiate an immense love, A testament to the love I once had for you.
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