George Eliot

(22 November 1819 - 22 December 1880 / Warwickshire, England)

Roses - 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!


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Read poems about / on: pink, rain, sky, light, love, rose, sleep



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

Poem Edited: Tuesday, January 20, 2015


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