Fleeting Poems - Poems about Fleeting

thorn makes rose rose ...

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Giants creep through disguised as trees. Tiptoeing by the ancients asleep underneath. A deep slumber echoes from the ground. A blanket of silence filters the sound. The mist rolls in and the forest takes a breath. A crow takes flight and comes to a rest. This mossy rock becomes my throne In the center of my newly found home. My spirit wanders, and...

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Once a poem alit did linger To tarry nigh upon my finger Then having saying said Once perched a fleeing fled...

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A fleeting glance into a dream A moment so pure and so bright Two energies intertwined Arms wrapped around bodies A mere physical show Of a melding of souls Roots of our Past, present, and future Snake together through our fingertips Almost to tell the universe we exist Pressed into each other We share this experience...

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Through the narrow window of time, I see fleeting shadows of lives that remain unfulfilled, Men bound to desks like to foreign altars, captive in routine and silence, Souls enclosed in a shell of paper and numbers, with hearts beating under the cold light's clocks, Once hunters of dreams and stars, now hunters of signatures and senseless approvals, Strangers...

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On top of mountain I see all better days below One day I go down....

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Written: April 8, 2025, for contest sponsored by Brian Strand ******************* love fleeting moments ...

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Standing on a bridge, gazing at a tree, Admiring its beauty, a soft smile forming on my lips. The red flowers bloom like delicate whispers, The only attire the tree wears, as its leaves have long since faded. But as time flows, the flowers, too, will bid farewell, Leaving the tree bare, unseen, forgotten. No one will stop to admire it...

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There are those who fight for peace, with so much endeavor, only to lose it for so little....

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Upon a ridge, the echoes fade, Mist drapes the dawn in silver shade. A lone tree hums where whispers flow, As dewdrops race the breeze below. The seasons shift, the dream is past, A fleeting bloom, too bright to last. Yet in the hush where echoes stay, A long-lost song still finds its way....

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Soft light, visions bloom, Unfurling in silent grace, Worlds built in the mind. Then, day's harsh light, they all fade, Whispers lost, on morning's breeze. ©bfa030725 ...

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Great beauty did Rose have since that time when she poked her head out and beheld the sun, which had been helping her to grow and then, she noticed in her bed there was no one except for her! For a brief moment, Rose was all alone, a queen who stood with grace with her crimson hue and in sweet repose, enticing...

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I want to write a single line, just one, to hold within my memoir’s quiet space, where sorrow and joy dissolve together, becoming something weightless, something whole. Perhaps it will be my final offering, the only treasure I take with me. A life steeped in unrelenting grief— what else can I craft but a fleeting companion? The words the world desires are not...

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In the desolate plains, Where nothing to be seen and nothing to be heard. I heard a welcome dear, my spirit lifted up To welcome my friend dear. Oh, no heaven's mercy, it's just the whisper of the wind. ...

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Why would you stare into my eyes? It’ll keep a hold on me While you’ll leave me behind Unrequited this story will be Just like in the past I couldn’t be- “someone’s muse but they were mine” My face will turn gray again And this feeling will die in a million times...

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