Famous Short Water Poems. Short Water Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Water short poems
See also: Short Member Poems
the heron's legs.
Washing the hoe--
ripples on the water;
far off, wild ducks.
Awake at night--
the sound of the water jar
cracking in the cold.
Ducks bobbing on the water--
are they also, tonight,
hoping to get lucky?
On the fruit stand.
We eat the smile
And spit out the teeth.
so much depends
a red wheel
glazed with rain
beside the white
The river I have under my tongue,
Unimaginable water, my little boat,
And curtains lowered, let's speak.
Mary had a little frog
And it was water-soaked,
But Mary did not keep it long
Because, of course, it croaked!
I could not drink it, Sweet,
Till You had tasted first,
Though cooler than the Water was
The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
Declaiming Waters none may dread --
But Waters that are still
Are so for that most fatal cause
In Nature -- they are full --
Though the great Waters sleep,
That they are still the Deep,
We cannot doubt --
No vacillating God
Ignited this Abode
To put it out --
How strange to think of giving up all ambition!
Suddenly I see with such clear eyes
The white flake of snow
That has just fallen in the horse's mane!
Water, is taught by thirst.
Land -- by the Oceans passed.
Transport -- by throe --
Peace -- by its battles told --
Love, by Memorial Mold --
Birds, by the Snow.
Sunlight streams on the river stones.
From high above, the river steadily plunges--
three thousand feet of sparkling water--
the Milky Way pouring down from heaven.
GLIDING o’er all, through all,
Through Nature, Time, and Space,
As a ship on the waters advancing,
The voyage of the soul—not life alone,
Death, many deaths I’ll sing. 5
Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where no one knows:
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.
"I will not part! -- There is no end!" She clings and clings...
And in the breast -- the rise
Of threatening waters,
Of notes...Steadfast: like an immutable
Mystery: we will part!
The moon shimmers in green water.
White herons fly through the moonlight.
The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts:
into the night, singing, they paddle home together.
These Fevered Days -- to take them to the Forest
Where Waters cool around the mosses crawl --
And shade is all that devastates the stillness
Seems it sometimes this would be all --
Thou water turn'st to wine, fair friend of life,
Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of thy reign,
Distills from thence the tears of wrath and strife,
And so turns wine to water back again.
As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
When the hot water gives out or goes tepid,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,
O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.
The words are a beautiful music.
The words bounce like in water.
loud in the clearing
off the boats,
They look for a place
to sit and eat--
So I pull my Stockings off
Wading in the Water
For the Disobedience' Sake
Boy that lived for "or'ter"
Went to Heaven perhaps at Death
And perhaps he didn't
Moses wasn't fairly used --
Ananias wasn't --
To One denied the drink
To tell what Water is
Would be acuter, would it not
Than letting Him surmise?
To lead Him to the Well
And let Him hear it drip
Remind Him, would it not, somewhat
Of His condemned lip?
Water makes many Beds
For those averse to sleep --
Its awful chamber open stands --
Its Curtains blandly sweep --
Abhorrent is the Rest
In undulating Rooms
Whose Amplitude no end invades --
Whose Axis never comes.