Pines Poems - Poems about Pines

Adept Anglophone pines to learn Yiddish as a second language When alive colorful turns of phrases uttered courtesy my father or mother whose ability to describe a situation perfectly verbalized and couched by a dialect of High German including some Hebrew and other words now embolden me - a sexagenarian poet to embark upon quest shunning aim buzzfeeding insatiable avocation to acquire fluency communicating the tongue...

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frosty pine needles sun glisten after the storm - radiant outcome...

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The air is crisp with the promise of winter, but the earth hasn’t yet yielded to the frost. Bare feet press against soft, damp moss—each step grounding me in a world that feels alive despite the stillness. Pines tower above, their needles murmuring secrets to the wind. A faint scent of sap lingers, mingling with...

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Carolina home In the great Palmetto State Place where I was born Boy was free to roam On a ninety-acre farm Free from fear and harm In dirt, sand or mud We sandlappers had it all To work, play, or brawl Turning the dark dirt Putting the hounds on the trail Tussling with cousins Having dirt clog fights Making toys out of pine bark Plowing fertile fields Running through the...

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Under the veil of twilight, in the whispering pines, Where the sweet rain drifts through the western air, I find myself lost in the labyrinth of my own thoughts. Hypocrite women, how seldom we express our doubts, While, with doubt, we care for the man in his uncertainty, High up, among the trees in the mountains, in the thick air...

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pines sigh in brisk breeze spring-green dots the pine forest.... birds chirp at sunrise nest being built in new houses cardinal bathes in birdbath He's going to court his pick for this season...

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The winter wind is roaring through the pines, giving frigid kiss to still green leaves. Their strong relentless branches only wine. For lusty gusts won’t bring them to their knees. The staunch old pines endure the winter’s storm. While naked maples crack with branches rent In winter’s reign the onslaught will rage on. While Evergreen’s resilience is their strength ...

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When my soul reaches the top of these pines, A lofty perch where serenity aligns, I'll breathe in the whispers of the ancient trees, And embrace the freedom carried on the breeze. The pines, guardians of wisdom and grace, Stand tall, their branches reaching into space, As I ascend, I'll leave the world behind, Finding solace in the tranquility I find. From the...

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Galaxy of stars supplies signal event in dark skies. Tall straight pines birthed as light poles heavens hallow grown-up roles. Mirrored in the brook below current venue ceases flow. Trees denuded of their leaves while soon empty forest grieves. Destined now to carry light to a busy city's night; poles' inaugurations move into town when works approve. Loudly speaks the jackhammer amid much-needed clamor; tearing up pathway's...

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ice-pellets dazzling on tall pines, jewellery ...

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silence reigns in the forest snowfall blankets tree limbs all is calm and hushed no chirping of birds nor wolf howls moonlight casts shadows through the pines north winds softly hum a soothing lullaby stars gleam from high above ~ December 12, 2022 ~ Writing Challenge - Yalto Form Contest Sponsored by Constance La France...

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In the City of Pines, vendors are everywhere. High and low prices are everywhere. The once cool region of overflowing love somehow narrowed its space for the younger generation because of commercialization. Commercialization, on one hand, helps. On the other hand, synchronization is tantamount to compression, which can be a sign of evaporation. Nevertheless,...

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Among the wistful, pointy pines A breeze blew-in, to awaken life And shook the forest fast asleep A bird would chirp, a squirrel would leap. Upon the mossy, banks below A stream where waterfall would flow, and in the echos of the spray the sunbeam supports the light of day. Then a lively chorus of splash and foam Throughout the day and...

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Pines, my native line and birth From you I came without a dearth Pines, I shall call you with mirth To you I return with my vision to unearth Returning with unearthly wealth Simple works I offer, not burn Honor is yours, over my urn. Toils are not made to harden one's feelings Or break a heart of stone that churn Rather to soften...

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bottom of a bowel of jagged rocks slender bristling pines ring a ragged sky through which slips slivers of warmth hugging me like a child on this crisp morning life on the line wiggling wriggling jumping splashing, flashing slippery, cold, and firm in my grasp...

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