poems about roses
poems about roses
After reading Chapters 15-17, respond to the prompt below:
Prompt: Consider the poems about roses (pages 887-889), and write a paragraph about each poem showing how it establishes specific symbolism for the rose. What generalizations can you draw about the rose’s traditional meanings in poetry? If you can, find other poems about roses outside of this textbook to determine if your generalizations still apply.
Your postings will be reviewed according to the following criteria:
- Writing well-developed paragraphs relevant to the prompt(s) (minimum 300 words).
- Be sure that your thesis is explicit and supported with one to two quotations from the literature.
- Do not write in the first or second person.
- Replying to two of your classmates with meaningful responses with a minimum of 30 words (do not simply write “I agree. I like what you’ve written.”)
- Following the rules of Standard English. Please proofread your writing before clicking the ‘submit’ button!
- When you include a quotation from the literature in your mini-essay, please place an in-text citation (also called a parenthetical citation) immediately after you close the quotation marks and before you place a period at the end of your sentence. That way, anyone in the class (including me!) can easily find the quotation in the literature if necessary. If you’re not sure what to place inside the parentheses, there is instruction in the textbook in Chapter 34- Quotation, Citation, and Documentation.
- When you include in-text citations, there must be a Works Cited listing at the bottom of your post.
- Be sure to follow the “Quote Sandwich” when you insert quotations.
Dorothy Parker:
“One Perfect Rose”
A single flow’r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet–
One perfect rose.
I knew the language of the floweret;
“My fragile leaves,” it said, “his heart enclose.”
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.
Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it’s always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.
The Sick Rose
BY WILLIAM BLAKEO Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.