Mists Poems - Poems about Mists

Either the sun is broken, or someone has stolen it. The feeling of comfort, of warmth, is rare these days. I find myself longing for the shades of summer, where shadows of people and things made the world more real. Now, mists have taken over— the views from my windows, a magical backdrop for dreamy photos. I took a walk in the misty rain, its tender touch washing away the paths, erasing old...

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The sun rays hit The pearly mists Paste in apple....

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gem in paradise from behind falling water mist kisses my skin...

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In the mystical mists of twilight, leaning on an ancient railing, I gaze deeply into the water to see my reflection gently rippling, And the little fish weaving their paths Through the blurred contours of my shadowed essence. I wonder if these ethereal beings feed On my floating thoughts, lightly nibbling At the strands loosely interwoven Into the very fabric of my...

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In the dead of night, when mists blind the gaze and shadows play their secret role, Don't give up, think of the stars drowned in tears of forgotten amber, Enveloping all the lost nights, when love itself has written its farewell, Whispering to you that every tear is a hidden diamond of happiness. Don't give up when you slide...

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Through the Mists Of Time shines The Everlasting Light Illumined by the Ethereal Torch of the Most High, Forever, The Emerald Chalice Burns Through the Ashes of Fetters, Ever-Upwards Beyond Perils of The Lower Domain A Golden Ballad, Such is "ONE" where Heaven Reigns Upright, Up High, Past the Seven Gates Beyond Seven Scintillating...

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In the land of silvery mists, where dreams touch the ground, A being-abyss struggles, wishing to rise in docile flight and facing a deep fear, Striving to be a fruitful field, the most fertile version of its essence, While the shadows of insecurity cast it into the amphitheater of blooming thoughts, to crush it. As the depths of the...

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I’m feral like a fox misplaced in the maroon mists of wilderness, only found in woeful woodland. My skin is blanketed in crimson balmy hyacinth feathers from a forsaken rainforest. Misguided on delusional paths, where spring-tides mirror liquified colors of warm diamond tears I’ve suppressed behind ice blue sighs. And I’ve seen splintered petals beneath thick-leaved jewel orchids, that surrendered to greying leaves on tainted twigs and broken branches....

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The Lady knew he lurked but felt no harm or fear from the knight who watched her from the wood. His only thought was of the lovely Lady Guinevere, bethrothed to Arthur, so he knew where he stood. Young Lancelot, feigning interest, ignored her glance. Insolent, she though him to be, as arrogant as an ass! Til the day she caught...

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Sweet mists of morning, and rose red mystery, So much color all around, nothing is left to see, Orangey mists of twilight, a tangerine surprise, I can't see pearl stars, for beauty's in my eyes. Golden mists of afternoon, hazy clouds in grass, Pretty as a silken flower, though it will not last! Deep purple midnight mists, so airy and dreamy,...

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WHERE I AM FREE My freedom lies beyond the cloud of unknowingness beyond mists of time where I disappear into olive groves which furl and unfurl in slow dawns Here there are no gates latches or rusty keys nobody entices with tickets to a show and gala gifts dark chocolate or apple orchards Where I am free translucent dragonflies and red quilts are escaping...

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Fog, like a shroud, hangs over the valley, muting the morning's voice, soaking the ground. Droplets cannonball, trying to rally, base jump the downspouts, raise echoing sounds. Scarce is heard but a chorus of crickets. Runoffs form rivulets, quiet joined mirth. Does skip breakfast, stay tucked in the thickets, waiting for sunshine, enjoying warm earth. Silent, it slips like ghosts through the forest, leaving...

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an enshrouded dawn all lost in thick orange mist in a one hued world redbirds are waiting with their celebration song a tune that's agelong tangy dewy blooms of a vivid magic morn wait for butterflies...

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Mundane matters motley Muddy minds mostly Melding, moulding, miring Mindlessly meandering Meek moribund musing Mindfulness missing Mystics mentalism mimic Marring meditation’s magic 30-June-2022 Begin with a letter Poetry Contest Sponsor: Angela Tune...

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in the pupil of her eye don't know if its lost or trapped not sure if anything has moved around her hold a fleck in emerald moat to stop from drowning Jack seriously move over Tyrannically Titan ----------------------i ----------------------c maybe the wisps are dancing maybe they are praising her like that glint of light that refuses to leave holding on with tendril fingertips this poem never left her eyes like me....

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