Let me lie down for a while
To watch the clouds formless wags
Their silver linings in the sky
Can’t be corroded by the rains
Intangible, ephemeral
That silver shines too bright
To last for longer, on the roll
Of the wild winds I might
Feel for a minute, maybe two
Or three, if I continue
To watch the sky in search of you
Although I live within you.
IN AND OF CELESTIAL CANVASSING
(Apropos Of A Five Haiku Free Flow)
Sad sky shedding tears;
The steaming sun consoles her:
Curving a rainbow:-
We are as the sky,
When shedding sad tears to God:
Rainbow healings sent:-
The inspiring sky,
Reflects so much of God’s grace,
And rainbowing love:-
So parabolic,
Our canvassing sky can be,
In its reflections:-
Day or night, our sky
Is so allegorical,
In canvassing life:-
The mind of man expands its
eager grasp,
To chart the heavens and the
depths below,
Unlocking wonders from the
iron clasp,
Of centuries that vanished long
ago.
A monstrous birth, a star that
burns too bright,
The sudden flood that reaped
the valley clean-
All signs of wonder in the
shifting light,
The strangest omens that the
world has seen.
The page is turned, the ink is
dark and bold,
A vast creation waking from its
sleep,
As great, portentous stories are
resold,
And secrets rise from out the
quiet deep.
The world grows larger than it
was before,
With boundaries that stretch
beyond the eye,
A great abundance knocks
upon the door,
Beneath a vast and unpredictable
sky.
On cool autumn morns
Like ornaments in the sky
Hot air balloons fly
The dense film of depthless darkness spreads silently
as the fading spectrum of tranquil twilight descends
to disappear in the opaque cauldron of the onyx night.
Black satin stretches as the velvet swathe of night.
In halcyon horizon the last sunrays dissolve silently,
on skyline the silken shade of chalcedony descends.
The surge of astral ardor from the still sky descends
as the sprouting stars shine in the crystalline night,
adorning the sparkling sky with stellar crown silently.
Amorous moondust silently descends from sky at night.
Autumn's many colorful moons seen through the lens of a camera,
I see beauty and color everywhere.
As a child,
I did not know there was a harvest moon.
I loved watching the full autumn moon,
as it seemed to change colors.
Autumn's many colorful moons seen through the lens of a camera,
have changed over the years.
What has made this change?
The huge night clear sky is not as clear as it once was,
the full bright moon is not as bright.
Do we see the change year after year?
Do we even care?
I weep for the beauty of olden Autumn days,
a more peaceful time.
A bright full moon and clear night's sky,
that was once seen through the lens of a camera.
Whitish and woolike
Hanging in the air and clinging to the sky
Flying across the mountains high above our heads
Come in different shapes and sizes, appearances and states
From groups of sheep to clusters of flowers
From overlapping surfs to puffs of smoke
All deceiving your eyes
As a sudden rain will come like fate
Take me to the high desert where the Sierras touch the sky.
Beside my tent an ice cold creek hastily rushes by.
Above me a thousand stars mesmerize the eye.
The jagged mountains come alive as the sun rises in my eye,
Casting a reddish glow on the earth below a golden sky.
Out of nowhere a roadrunner comically passes by.
The Alabama Hills beckon from a dusty trail close by.
Two crows call noisily from a tree and look me in the eye.
After a lengthy conversation, they fly off in a cloudless sky.
I marvel at the sunset, below a crimson sky, captured by my camera's photographic eye.
Mare's tales aloft, I'm feelin' soft
Feelin' as wispy as what's blowin' cross
They come and they go, like all of these states
This will blow over if I will just wait
Darkness brewed over early morning skies
for not yet open were the eyes of Dawn.
Foreshadowed was the fast-approaching storm.
Thunder and lightning heralded the storm,
Rain laden Nimbus rushed across the skies,
Chosen was a graphite gown, donned by Dawn,
Rain washed were the silvered tresses of Dawn,
She brushed a tinge of blush after the storm
before greeting sunrise in pale pink skies.
Cloudy skies at Dawn were clear following the storm.
September 08, 2026
red-orange sunrise
slightly above horizon crescent moon....
king of planets
glowing brightly, jupiter september's beauty
rich blessings for poet observing
Poet’s notes: this poem was written for this week’s poetry challenge: Write a poem with exactly seven lines.)
water rises in the clear bowl, a small cosmos gathering itself.
bubbles bloom like breath returning to a long-quiet body.
copper and blue tiles hold the warmth of forgotten mornings.
on the sill, bottles keep vigil — lotions, perfumes, small reliquaries of touch.
the faucet’s flow feels ancient, a quiet force older than ache.
the sky beyond the glass window moves in pale currents, clouds drifting close to the sill,
and I lean into the moment, letting the water’s rise settle something unnamed.
A HAPPY RAINY DAY
Sad skies shedding tears,
Bright shining sun passes by—
The sky is rainbowed:-
And if I wouldn’t see you there
I wouldn’t know the sense
Here comes the meaningless nowhere
Presenting its offence
Aren’t we just names imprinted by
A memory that fades
But then it suddenly revives
And I can see your face
There was a time for us to share
Our garden was in bloom
Then came that letter from nowhere
It flew into your room
It didn’t say the time has come
Though, on the other hand,
I felt that something must be done
But failed to understand
The clocks were chiming rather loud
The wind was blowing high
Last time we talked there was no sound
You sang no lullaby..
We are the darkened sky I keep
I never let us go
The coastal waters become deep
The seagulls fly too low..
He starts with the easy pieces~
the corners, the edges, the parts of life
that stay where they’re put.
But the sky refuses to behave.
Its fragments lift from the table,
hovering above his hands
like small constellations
waiting for him to remember
where they once belonged.
He doesn’t look startled anymore.
Some puzzles do that~
they rise when you’ve asked too much of gravity,
when the unfinished part of your life
decides it’s tired of lying flat.
He reaches for a star-shaped piece,
but it drifts upward,
as if the cosmos has opinions
about how he should finish himself.
He laughs under his breath,
the way someone laughs
when they’re almost ready
to admit the truth.
The truth is this:
he’s not assembling a picture.
He’s assembling a question.
Every floating shard of sky
is a reminder that the universe
isn’t something you complete~
it’s something you join
one piece at a time.
Sky Categories
Definition | What is Sky in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
lid, firmament, welkin, empyrean, azure, vault, heavens, celestial sphere, the blue, upper atmosphere, vault of heaven, wild blue yonder,