Cliffs Poems - Poems about Cliffs

As the tide retreats, the shore unveils a tapestry of deep garnet and crushed ruby sand, spread before a mosaic of polished rocks. Towering above, the jagged cliffs rise steeply, their weathered faces carved by relentless waves. Ancient glyphs emerge, whispering timeless secrets to the ever-listening ocean below. ...

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In a sea of time, where the waves of memories crash against forgotten cliffs, There exist those rare beings, lost between the niches of destiny and the shadows of dreaming, Never fully rooted in the fabric of society, never bound by the dreams of the night. Souls that seem to have been born before the first accusation of...

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High looking at the sea, waves knocking them, the Cliffs of Moher beyond the years, face future being tall ...

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What a brutal sun that assaults the cliffs Where cacti and mescals dare to abide! Here and there, dozens of petroglyphs Decorating the canyon may be espied. In large nesting circles neatly drawn In evaporating wisps and bold squares In a sun to give thanks for every dawn In little...

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Breath of fresh air on Christmas Day To walk cliffs briskly and view the sea Boat's in the harbour, anchors away Silent good wishes to sailors from me. Ragged cormorant on favourite rock Immune to all festivity Gimlet eyes sharp he takes stock Consumed by fishing activity. Blustery air blows quickly on my walk Unexpectedly seeing flash of colour Distracted when those seagulls squawk...

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A wise old man standing up there, on the cliffs, thinking about all his life and mistakes. Everything he did wrong, everything he did right. A sad and honorable man, feeling blue, wanted to jump to the dark and cold waters to disappear forever into the ocean. I couldn't understand why. I could not understand what the problem was with him. I managed...

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Heart Pulse throbbing, breathlessly imbibing the cliff’s enthrall. The crashing of momentous waves against the bolder rocks. The passionate heaving of whisking foam and the swollen coolness of seaside air. Mind Blown, for I am not a fisherman, nor reside near the cliffs. What is a haven and harbor to many is a far-fetched tale to me, but...

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England our island, is being eaten by the sea bit by tiny bit, In my life I am the island and as I age I'm feeling weaker and certainly less fit. Our coast is slowly changing as it gets waten away, My life is much like this, I feel like I am fading and I can feel my...

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There once came a grey haired old man. Or am I mistaken was it rather a ma'am? Nevertheless he big brought gifts And climbed big cliffs To deliver them to his little fans....

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Ancient mountains Where I used to find fountains; Strong; solid; soundless; In strength and energy countless... I feel calling me always, I see Moses bush blaze; The Yahweh says: I am who I am, I see Cherubims and angels stand calm... 13 December 2022...

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cow bells ring through verdant hills rolling up to cuddle towering gray cliffs spraying white foam intoxicating Alps where Frankenstein concocted Elixir Vitae and birthed a monster rich red wine and a pot of fondue on a cafe terrace jagged tip of the top of Europe peeking through the fluff hugging its head and shoulders stunning monster the Alps Elixer Vitae for an old soul...

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Lithium keeps me current On river raft sans torrent Dreaming by cloud tufted sky Scoring rustic lullaby Hands caressing cool water Passing coarse cliffs which totter Lithium keeps me current...

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Years have taken me to the top of the mountain, The arrow of misunderstanding pierces me again To the cliffs of hope pushed by words from the bottom, fast water invites me. * The waters are deep, black, cold my soul dives, tired. Alien breeze, the mean breeze my love down the waves blows away. * I drink bitterness, I swallow I give up... while the crying...

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The music is her breath, or…wind… into the open bottle. The songs of folk-lore. *** Around her bon-fire, embers sear the sleeve, of her Hoodie; The sparks are as red as the blood of a burst aneurism. Thus... she could have a "broken heart". The sparklers in their hands, the flames of our Sun, dressing the edges... of Sorrento Cliffs, that think they could conquer the sky. The beach in a dream... melts the sea and sky into a flesh- colored palette of all light browns. I...

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Wildflowers sleeping late on dewy days Rather than traveling on mountaintops Two flowers embrace in harmony Cognizant of nature's patrimony Thankful for the few good years that remain Their love gracefully grows time and again Their patience now merrily thrives again Wildflowers could choose to question each day Whether they're pleased with love's years that remain Times that they picnic on blue mountaintops Mindful of...

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