Rose Poem

Looking for a rose poem, then find ones here that discusses roses. A rose is a thing of beauty and the verses here reflect that.

We hope you find a rose poem that expresses your thoughts or gives you words to consider.


Nobody Knows This Little Rose
Poet: Emily Dickinson

Nobody knows this little Rose -
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it -
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey -
On its breast to lie -
Only a Bird will wonder -
Only a Breeze will sigh -
Ah Little Rose - how easy
For such as thee to die!


Literally take a few minutes and smell the roses. Life goes by so fast. Stop and enjoy where you presently are. Doug Brownstone


Results and Roses
Poet: Edgar A. Guest

The man who wants a garden fair,
Or small or very big,
With flowers growing here and there,
Must bend his back and dig.

The things are mighty few on earth
That wishes can attain.
Whate'er we want of any worth
We've got to work to gain.

It matters not what goal you seek,
Its secret here reposes:
You've got to dig from week to week
To get Results or Roses.


My Pretty Rose Tree
Famous Poem by William Blake

A flower was offered to me;
Such a flower as May never bore
. But I said I've a Pretty Rose-tree.
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.

Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turnd away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight.



Roses A Poem by George Eliot You love the roses - so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!


Garden Poem
Poet: Hilda Doolittle

You are clear
O rose, cut in rock,
hard as the descent of hail.

I could scrape the colour
from the petals
like spilt dye from a rock.

If I could break you
I could break a tree.

If I could stir
I could break a tree -
I could break you.

O wind, rend open the heat,
cut apart the heat,
rend it to tatters.

Fruit cannot drop
through this thick air -
fruit cannot fall into heat
that presses up and blunts
the points of pears
and rounds the grapes.

Cut the heat -
plough through it,
turning it on either side
of your path.


Roses do not bloom hurriedly; for beauty, like any masterpiece, takes time to blossom.” Matshona Dhliwayo


The Rose Family
A Famous Poem by Robert Frost

The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only know
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose -
But were always a rose.


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