Treasure Island

Dr John Celes

(14-2-1957 / Coimbatore, Tamilnadu, India)

The Rose-plant

A plant bore roses ten in number all,
And two got nipped when young by Nature’s way;
One blossomed to adorn God’s celestial throne;
Six bloomed becoming beauteous flowers big,
To put forth seed that fell on fertile soil,
That grew into rose-plants like their parents.

One still remains a flower big on mother-plant:
Weathered a bit, perfuming her landscape;
She yearned but could not turn into a seed!
Nevertheless, she bowed to Divine Will.

The soil was good in which the rose-plant grew,
Watered by rain and bathed by sun for years;
God’s grace and mercy nurtured her growth-curve;
Life’s storms and strife could not up-root the plant.

The mother-plant is very old in age;
Her life-partner left years back to God’s Home;
She lives by sheer will-pow’r, amidst her own,
And thanks the Maker for blessing her life;

God’s plans and ways are strange and mysterious;
Yet, earthlings must abide by Will Divine;
God gives us freedom to decide and act;
But Heaven must remain our goal always.

Submitted: Saturday, August 20, 2005
Edited: Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Rose-plant by Dr John Celes )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »


Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

[Hata Bildir]