Beautiful House Poems | Examples
These Beautiful House poems are examples of House poems about Beautiful. These are the best examples of House Beautiful poems written by international poets.
Cliffs aren’t dangerous
until you make them sharp
with shadows and wild waves…
The woods is peaceful
until it hoots and howls
chills up the spine…
The house is big and beautiful
until the weeping willows are old
and its secrets are slowly divulged…
The breeze-like sound of the sea
holds lively hearts
until they be stilled…
The knife is productive
as it carves a pumpkin’s features
until flames fuel perdition…
Superstition is innocuous
until the innocent
are burned at the stake…
Stick figures -
embers of the erroneous
history of shadows…
I dreamt about an old Victorian house that was abandoned
It was dilapidated and left vacant for years and was starting to decay
It was hidden down a long dirt driveway aligned with overgrown lilac trees
The grounds were overgrown grass that resembled a field of wildflowers
I decided to look inside, the front door was unlocked, and I let myself in
I entered a beautiful parlor with floor to ceiling bookcases and wingback chairs
Sticking out was a rare Charles Dicken's book, I took it and sat in a chair to read
I fell asleep until I awakened in my bed as I noticed the rare book in my hand
Where did the book come from, was I really in that old Victorian house?
Spring is here to stay
For three months, hooray!
More bluebirds are chanting
More tulips are blooming
More trees are growing
And dusts are in the air.
The weather is cool, not cold
More houses are being sold
More joggers run in the streets
More retirees are warming the seats
More athletes are at their meets
And allergies are in the air.
Spring is here to stay
For a quarter of the year, hooray!
Copyright © March 2019, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
It's hard to tell from this beautiful day,
that a gigantic storm is on its way,
threatening to blow down the house
and get rid of the mouse
that you just couldn't catch yesterday.
This morning, the sky looked a beautiful orange and lavender gray.
Scientists say it's pollution makes them look that way.
Still, some people think it's real pretty to see
and aren't aware of the possibility
that this beauty might kill them some day.
The picture on the parlor wall
Framed, not too big, and not too small
Charcoal stems, red poppies— that’s all
Some flowers— short, but others, tall
Mom found it in a poster rack
Loved it the most of the whole stack
It’d beautify the simplest shack
(Yet then my mom would want it back)
If you know who the artist is
We would like to support their biz
To hear that someone says it’s his
If we’re asked if it’s lovely?— ‘tis!
City walls,
A riot of colour,
Whispering stories,
Lives painted in sunshine,
Blooming.
The second I stepped inside I knew
I had found an artist’s house by every hue
The murals were most everywhere.
Up and down, on windows, walls and stair.
I love this place! I said to everyone I met.
Have not found another one as beautiful yet.
To visit an artist’s house is a joy for me.
I felt like I was in heaven, as you can see.
In a mass of blooms
sits a summer house all gold
on a sandy beach
Momentous waves each moment
of drama filled beauty days
Near the coral lane
adjoining bright reds and plums
beneath blues and cream
Orange and yellows in front
Green thrills of summer behind
There are a number of houses
Said to be haunted
Because they are vacant
Even with a beautiful location
Good designs
Said to be a dream house
Maybe people's hearts are haunted
They wait for a good bargaining
To sell to make extra profits
They didn't reach a compromise
To sell amongst them
The heir to the house is questionable
Someone died in the house accidentally
People's hearts are haunted
Because they have some mischieves behind
They have no confidence in life
They believe rumours
They fear fate
Usually haunted are the hearts
But not the house
And so haunted are our hearts that
We too have little faith in God
House of sun,
where the colors sing.
Sunroom blooms!
Inner bliss
and adventures in perfume,
at sunset or noon.
Spring air wafts,
warm through the window-
Peach rose prance!
Gloss green leaves,
glow on the street of colors.
Burgundy orchids.
Sunshine days
are welcome to stay.
Cacti blooms!
Pinkly plum,
and nearly black pansies, too.
Nature's come calling.
Written on 2/20/2022
For: Give Me A Shadorma Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Amaryllises fill the flower lover's small, white cottage,
In pinks, apricots and burgundy, near summer's edge.
Written on: 2/5/2022
For: YOUR BEST RHYMING COUPLET, #4 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L MILTON HANKINS
Graceful flamingo flocks prance into spring,
And trees budding green host hordes on a wing.
In pine trees, squirrels scamper to sunshine,
And dragonflies and blooms grace the tree line.
Crickets chirp whole summer nighttimes away,
Then vast herds of elk run all through midday.
Butterfly bliss means pink mass migrations,
While enthralling people teem proud nations.
Through mountain meadow, vale, forest and sea,
Spring's bursting all over, warm and carefree!
Written on 3/21/2021
For: Rhyming Couplets Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Janice Canerdy
Out where the blooming path comes to an end,
Along with wildflowers and Queen Anne's Lace,
A white sandy beach is waiting in the sunshine,
With a house so inviting at the day's primetime.
Seagulls are swooping and diving so endlessly,
Like the turquoise waves that come crashing in,
Before rushing back out to wild fathomless sea!
At the end of the beginning of gold midmorning,
It is noontime in the silent house of the sun.
Red butterflies are flittering on a soft breeze,
And the bees have begun their quest for honey.
Blooms yellow orange and red sit upon the porch,
As if somehow lit up, by the sun's flaming torch!
Creeping strands of ivy intensifies the gloom
of this once beautiful elegant drawing room
A faded dressing screen, a tatty salon chair
since my Grand Papa’s died I’m now the heir
Yet, when I look deep beyond the peeling walls
I can hear melodies from past summer balls
My aim’s to bring it back to its former glory
so my own family will be part of its history
Photograph 3 used
Free Verse or Rhyme Contest
Contest Sponsor Eve Roper
9/8/19
Too many happy places, darling spaces.
I forgot about my outside office.
I am in there now, loving it, remembering
How excited I was when we built it.
It has my happy canvases,
And the desk I visualized the day before I found it.
It has comfortable furniture, and the sun is streaming in
loving it gently.
I look around, with happy feelings,
Glad to have re-found myself in this
beautiful office after many months of
forgetting.