Tag Archive | #poetry

‘Battle of the Wind’ a poem by Rose English

Battle of the Wind

Battle of the Wind

War torn and battered,
Our soldiers are paraded
For all to see.
Tall and skeletal.

Worn down by the ‘Battle of the Wind’,
Deciduous soldiers seen
In faded uniforms of russet and gold.
While unscathed Officers
Are still adorned in coniferous finery.

Regiments can be seen lined up along roadways,
Or converging upon hills.

Sometimes a lone deciduous warrior,
Stripped of his uniform,
Can be glimpsed –
Struggling to hold his stance
In a vast sea of green.

These are our mighty British Warriors.
They will live through time and season,
Only to be regaled in new finery come spring.
To stand proud and tall
Amongst their regiments,
In true readiness once again
For the ‘Battle of the Wind’.

Copyright © 2016 Rose English


This is one of my most inspired poems. The first one I published online, although I cannot for the life of me find it now. I suppose with so many wonderful writers out there it is very easily lost, tangled up in the world wide web.

It is available along with other poems and short stories in my full colour book ‘Rainbows & Roses ~ Poetry & Prose.’

Happy Reading



Floral Poetry ‘Forget~Me~Not’

There is an old legend that tells the sad tale of how the ‘Forget~Me~Not’ gained its name. The story is of a lady  who one evening whilst strolling beside the river Danube with her gallant knight Rondolf spotted a pretty blue flower. It’s beauty stopped her in her tracks and Rondolf could not resist reaching out to collect it for her.

Unfortunately he slips on the muddy bank, falling into the water. He manages to throw the flower to his fair maid shouting “Forget-me-not.” Sadly all she can do is clutch the flower to her breast as she watches her beloved dragged beneath the waves by his heavy armour and carried away never to be seen again.

The story is immortalised in a wonderful piece of floral poetry by Miss Pickergill which is featured in ‘The Poetry of the Flowers’ by Mrs C.N. Kirtland 1800

Forget Me Not

The Bride of the Danube (Forget-Me-Not)

By Miss Pickersgill

(Featured in Mrs Kirtlands ‘Poetry of Flowers’)


“See how yon glittering wave in sportive play

Washes the bank, and steals the flowers away.

And must they thus in bloom and beauty die.

Without the passing tribute of a sigh?”


“No, Bertha, those young flowerets there

Shall form a braid for thy sunny hair;

I yet will save one, if but one

Soft smile reward me when ’tis done.”

He said, and plunged into the stream


His only light was the moon’s pale beam.

” Stay! stay! “she cried—but he had caught

The drooping flowers, and breathless sought

To place the treasures at the feet

Of her from whom e’en death were sweet.


With outstretched arms upon the shore she stood,

With tearful eye she gazed upon the flood.

Whose swelling tide now seemed as if ‘twould sever

Her faithful lover from her arms forever.

Still through the surge he panting strove to gain

The welcome strand—but, ah! he strove in vain !


Yet once the false stream bore him to the spot

Where stood his bride in muteness of despair:

And scarcely had he said, “ Forget me not !”

And flung the dearly ransomed flowerets there,

When the dark wave closed o’er him, and no more

Was seen young Rodolph on the Danube’s shore.


Aghast she stood; she saw the tranquil stream

Pass o’er him—could it be a fleeting dream?

Ah, no! the last fond words, “ Forget me not !”

Told it was all a sad reality.

With frantic grasp the dripping flowers she prest.

Too dearly purchased, to her aching breast.


Alas! her tears, her sorrows now were vain.

For him she loved she ne’er shall see again!

Is this then a bridal, where, sad in her bower.

The maid weeps alone at the nuptial hour;

Where hushed is the harp, and silent the lute

Ah! why should their thrilling strains be mute?

And where is young Rodolph? where stays the bridegroom?

Go, ask the dark waters, for there is his tomb.


Often at eve when maidens rove

Beside the Danube’s wave,

They tell the tale of hapless love,

And show young Rodolph’s grave;

And cull the flowers from that sweet spot.

Still calling them ” Forget-me-not.”


Poetry ‘City of Dreams’ Felicity Snowden


City of Dreams 04

‘City of Dreams’

By Felicity Snowden

We came upon her suddenly……that city of dreams
Kissed by early sunlight, reflected in her streams.
Such grandeur and opulence, a feast to charm the eye
Basking, smiling; beckoning as slowly we drift by.

We stepped into her narrow streets……in reverence and in awe
Past Baroque Portals, Palaces and Bridges by the score.
Where saints in all their glory look down without a word
As hordes of eager travellers and pigeons converge.

We heard the chimes of ancient bells….a boatman’s sweet refrain
Captivating lovers with his Barcarola strain.
Shops full up to brimming with multi-coloured faces
Scrutinising, stalking they stare with spectral gazes.

We visited the church of gold ……where histories unfold.
The Tower of the Campanile, magnificent and bold.
In narrow twisting alleyways, her waters cool and clear
Tween every nook and cranny, she hides a secret there

We left her shores at sunset ………the waterfront aglow.
With bustling taverns, twinkling lights – so sad to see her go
And as she faded into night that Janus of the seas
We vowed to see her shores again and solve her mysteries

City of Dreams ©Felicity Snowden 2017

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Fliss Image 03


What a beautiful poem I simply had to share it with you lovely folks

Thanks for dropping by


Floral Poetry & Prose ‘The Snowdrop’

Floral Poetry An Introduction

Whilst researching for several of my books, I came across some beautiful poems, several I used within the books themselves. I thought it would be nice to share some of those  findings here and perhaps in a regular blog feature ‘Floral Poetry & Prose’. The majority of the poems are from a book I discovered that was printed in 1800 ‘The Poetry of Flowers’ by Mrs Kirtland.


Images courtesy of Pixabay

The Snowdrop

As Hope, with bowed head, silent stood,
And on her golden anchor leant,
Watching below the angry flood.
While Winter, ‘mid the dreariment
Half-buried in the drifted snow.
Lay sleeping on the frozen ground,
Not heeding how the wind did blow.
Bitter and bleak on all around :
She gazed on Spring, who at her feet
Was looking at the snow and sleet.


Spring sighed, and through the driving gale
Her warm breath caught the falling snow.
And from the flakes a flower as pale
Did into spotless whiteness blow;
Hope, smiling, saw the blossom fall.
And watched its root strike in the earth,—
“I will that flower the Snowdrop call,”
Said Hope, “in memory of its birth;
And through all ages it shall be
In reverence held, for love of me.”


“And ever from my hidden bowers,”
Said Spring, “it first of all shall go,
And be the herald of the flowers.
To warn away the sheeted snow :
Its mission done, then by thy side
All summer long it shall remain.
While other flowers I scatter wide
O’er every hill, and wood, and plain.
This shall return, and ever be
A sweet companion, Hope, for thee.”


Hope stooped and kissed her sister Spring,
And said, “For hours when thou art gone,
I’m left alone without a thing
That I can fix my heart upon,
‘Twill cheer me many a lonely hour.
And in the future I shall see
Those who would sink, raised by that flower.
They’ll look on it, then think of thee ;
And many a weary heart shall sing.
The Snowdrop bringeth Hope and Spring.


‘The Snowdrop’ is one of my most favourite poems, I have been unable to find out the poet, as in the book there is no name listed against it. However, I do know that it is a story from folklore of two sisters Hope & Spring. The first being sad that winter is upon them and the second to cheer up her sister, breaths life into a tiny snowflake creating the snowdrop that brings joy to the other that lasts well into summer time.

I hope you enjoy this new feature on my blog I would love to read your thoughts. Poems similar to this are featured in my book ‘Lost Love in Spring’

Happy Reading


‘Rainbows & Roses – Poetry & Prose’ 03

Oh my goodness I forgot all about sharing this poem with the world, it is now featured in my ‘Rainbows & Roses ~ Poetry & Prose’ book.

Rose English UK

Hello again

 So today I am sharing with you one of my saddest memories. It’s in the form of a little poem to go into my forth coming book ‘Rainbows & Roses – Poetry & Prose’. The book will be dedicated to my father.

I Wish I Could Remember …

I wish I could remember
how you bounced me on your knee,
and lifted me up high, to touch the sky
when I was three.

I wish I could remember
the sound of laughter sweet.
Especially when together
sparkling, shining eyes would meet.

I wish I could remember,
when we walked upon the sand.
We paddled in the water,
While you gently held my hand.

But all that I remember
is a smoky grey dull day,
and images in photographs
before God, stole you, away.

Now the angels share your smile, instead of me.

FamilyMini me with Mum & Dad…

View original post 98 more words

Rhyme Blog Spot ‘A Love for Rhyming Poetry’

Rhyme image

So today I came across a lovely new blog, right here on WordPress called Rhyme its all about the love of poetry and poems that actually rhyme. All too often we are seeing free-verse which has its place in the world but you cannot beat a poem that rhymes. Many of the old Romantics were rhyming poets and I want to share with you my favourite of them all, Percy Bysshe Shelley. He is the inspiration behind my own little poetry collection ‘Rainbows & Roses ~ Poetry & Prose.’

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Love’s Philosophy

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine? —


See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?


R&R Casa Magni Lerici by Capt Roberts Bysshe

The image above shows Casa Magni, the coastal residence of Romantic Poet Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792–1822). He was the husband to Mary Shelley who one stormy night, is said to have been inspired to write Prometheus Unbound ~ Frankenstein’ during a party attended by their friend Lord Byron.

Sadly not long afterwards, just before his thirtieth birthday Shelley drowned as he sailed his schooner home from Livorno to Lerici, situated in Northern Italy on the beautiful Italian Riviera.


Thank you for stopping by, do call in again

Happy Reading


Click the image below to view my poetry collection

170501 Rainbows Summer