Roses Are On Fire - Poem by Mark Heathcote
A river of stars
A bed of roses still in bud
We're but water lilies
Learning to be rainbows
With comet ribbons of light.
Where a thorn of passion cuts
Bled itself out red in the valleys.
I find lust is my ground-blanket
But it's always bitterly cold
Black ashen as a moonlit cloak.
I long to kiss the earth
Be one day returned to the dust
The smoke that engines a star
To glow red and orange
I long to be another solitary seed.
Waiting for its roots to cleave
Cut a blade of green corn
But I'm like a phoenix born
Without any feathers
Looking lost, mystified back at you.
Roses are on fire
Tears perspire—I choke
I wither on the vine
Always faithful, without true faith
Isn't it time this star my star collapsed.
And joined a river of sand
Ah, quicksand isn't he, my companion
He's filled the chambers of my sky,
He's filled life, my lungs I no longer
Remember, how once I could cry.
Comments about Roses Are On Fire by Mark Heathcote
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You