Poem Poems - Poems about Poem

He's an old man now, it's strange but it's true, he'll be sixty six this year, when the Winter is new, All I can say, is Wow, how time flies I remember when he was a spry 35, and wonder "Where did the time go" when I see the age in his eyes ...

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That Chosen Day Where will you be when Christ returns, Will you be in His will as He yearns. What will you be doing on that chosen day, Living in sin thinking it will be years away. Will you be ready when the trumpets sound, And the clouds part as our Savior comes down. When He returns,...

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May we forever be lovers, May we forever be friends, And should we hurt each other, May we quickly make amends. May we enjoy our passion, But never let compassion die, Thinking in selfless terms as we, Never emphasising I. May we forever be soul-mates, May our love eternally last, May the food of love sustain us, May we never have to fast. May we use each...

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aristocratic antelope alarms and annoys blue-eyed baboon’s billy goat buster causing confusion, consternation and crying distressing and disturbing deliberate donkey egg-producing egret elevates enthusiasm forever frolicking in farmer fred’s pastures giddy goats gallop in garnished with garlands happy horse henry hypnotizes henrietta’s hens intense iguana ignores idiocy of inmates jackals justify jack rabbits jelly-like jeers kangaroo keenly kicks off kingly kibitz luxurious llamas lollygag in the...

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When cooking something hot, The oven mitts you grab. Pulling them on, you think, “Am I a wanna-be crab?”...

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Did you know that Flamingos love to tango? Three steps forward, one side step, Shake of the hips, they end the prep. Quick, quick, slow, gracefully slide, Flamingos dance as colorful as mango....

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We are all poems in motion our beauty shaped by the choices we make the words we speak the paths we take. So let’s write something beautiful. Let’s choose peace instead of war kindness instead of cruelty love that doesn’t ask to be earned. Be a sonnet not a dirge carry hope in your lines leave room for others in your verses and rhythm that heals...

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There are days the sun drags itself across the sky like a wounded thing, and I follow behind it, meek as a shadow no one asked for. My feet walk the same road to the mailbox, rocky and too long, and still I walk it. Beside me, the hemlock grows. Tall and soft, almost beautiful. It does not beckon. It does not need...

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(Begin: There is no beginning.) (O' my--not again--you should not have started.) The quill burrows. No--splinters. No--fractures. No--was never here. Ink spills--no--veins spill--no--veins collapse--no--veins rewrite. The vowels--black-lipped--no--the ink coagulates--the ink tightens--the ink breathes- acrid, metallic, it stings the tongue. Teeth in the--grain. Teeth in the letters. Teeth in me--no--teeth in you--no--teeth in the mirror- splinters in the gum's raw edge. (First...

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The sun saw mothers playing with their children in parks during the day, But it’ll never see them comforting them after a nightmare, as on their laps they lay. The warm, golden luminosity might have seen a couple first holding hands in public, But the cool, silver radiance is the one that’ll hear the first love...

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There is something just so incredibly magical about nighttime. The quiet hours and the dark sky by the moon made sublime. Whispered words travel through the gloomy atmosphere, Nothing is more real than a nighttime word, a sigh, a tear. The night, with its black cloak and soft embrace, shields us from it all And it allows us to...

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Kya keemat hai khushi ki, kabhi socha hai tumne? Ek muskurahat ke peeche kitni tooti hui ummeedein hoti hain. Ek pal ki roshni ke liye, Kayi andheron se guzarna padta hai. Khushi milti hai... Magar muft nahi. Kabhi apni khamoshi bechni padti hai, Kabhi kisi apne ki yaad mein raat bhar ro kar Subah ek jhooti hasi pehnni padti hai. Zindagi ke bazaar mein, Jahaan...

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She rose at dawn and laid the mat, not from longing, but from old habit. She bowed, then sat, hands curled in form, but the heart lagged— a breath behind. Whispers once lush now stumbled dry— echoes of names once called with fire. The tasbih clinked without intent, rolling bead by bead without a soul. She used to plead, soaking her sleeves, but now she blinked and called it done. Ameen, she mouthed— not out of...

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Why do I love God? Why do we adore? For me, it's simple: He created me, and more. In His image, I'm crafted, a work of art divine, A reflection of His love, a heart that beats in rhyme. He loved me first, before I knew His name, Before I understood the depth of His holy flame. He pursued me, gently,...

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E-xecuted V-ersion's E-dited L-ines Y-earn N-o L-istless E-xpression O-f S-entence A-bout L-iterary A-rt ©bfa050825 Monocrostic (Birthday of Evelyn A. Leosala)...

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