Short Air(A) Poems
Short Air(A) Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Air(A) by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Air(A) by length and keyword.
It’s time to get loud,
my wings compose an anthem;
I want to fly high,
feel the air a mile above
as the wind blows my candor.
the dried grass is brown,
our summer air a sauna
way too hot for most
air conditioning on freeze
i run outside to warm up
Warm
Fall day
clear and blue.
Sweet November-
with her gentle winds.
The air a scent
of gold leaves
that once,
flew !
Winter’s always cold
The air a brisk freezing temp
Has a heartless feel
Like that of a lost
Relationship that’s gone by
Piercing the sore pride
Russell Sivey
From air a scientists extract alcohol
For Russians an excellent type of warfare
We will to drink until die out all,
But so enemies will die of lack of air
today too, I visited again that empty bench by the lake
alongside on the pathway where billows hit the breakwater
in the autumn’s chilling air a spray of water I become
The man is not famous
But his dog is the best
He greets all of us neighbors
Better than all of the rest.
When on the street, you and this dog meet
He jumps straight into the air, a real “greet” treat!
As I browsed this morning's science news,
what I read knocked off my shoes.
Now, the entire educated world reflects,
understanding now that FISH HAVE NECKS!
....and in the air, a million "What the heck!"s
Ambient mist arrives from the east
In the air a slight chill
Sand beneath my feet
What a beautiful view
Gleaming lights all around
Thankful to be alive
No longer alone
The moon is by my side
In crisp fall air, a crowd's joyful football roar
Trump stands with a smile, a leader to adore
With banners flying Army, Navy-- the rivalry's fierce
A moment in time, where spirit won't cease
© daniel miltz
Nightingale, sing just for me
a swaying branch of melody;
and drop a feather
for you must
that I may pray the air a gust--
use such bright quill
across the night
writing just for you
pure notes of light….
High up in the air, a kite -
the wind helps it take fun flight.
All the while, the sun shines bright.
Everything seems so right.
What could possibly go wrong?
From the East, Godzilla; from the West, King Kong.
Reflections by Lisa Baron October 2020
The night you died
The sky was smoky blue
Cool air, a mix of still and breeze
Cows laid down for rain
The edge of loss is undefined
Yet quiet, deafening, peaceful
Some wildness runs in Artemis
As silver streaks in a jet of coal-black hair
This beauty wrought to tempt a man
Is by her lesbian air a beauty wasted
Her eyes to thine reflect a dream
Where senses numb and leave the lips untasted
Come sing for me oh little bird
Come air a sweet refrain,
Come greet me with a joyous song
For it is spring again.
Come sing for me oh little bird
Come sing for all your worth
Come celebrate along with me
The season of rebirth.
Today the sky is full to bursting,
the air a cloak ne’er night.
The lawns so plump with chlorophyll
the world’s full of life.
A lassitude fills harried hearts
they slow their frantic pace.
The day is wide with wonder
and all are in their place.
A dim light, a silent dawn,
Morning hasn't come, night is not yet gone.
A cool air, a sparkling dew,
A deep sleep, a dream of you.
A fictional peace, a hopeful spirit,
A hot flame, the fire's been lit.
A moment awake, a moment away,
In temporary heaven, I lay.
Form:
Welcome to the Never Road
where a hooded figure
seems frightening but offers you
sweet wine,
where the good can fly
and the evil wear hooks
on their hands,
as if that's not derivative,
where compassion flies
through the air, a small
very visible spark.
Soaring in the air, a murder of crows goes by.
Calling ahead, crows are truly sly.
Leaving behind only riddles and rhymes
Sneaking away, haunting bedtimes.
Crows rhyme and reason,
Change with the season.
Crows are such a mystery,
But that is crows history.
Crisp air, a fall day's hue,
Apple cider donuts, warm and round,
A taste of autumn, sweet and true.
Crisp air, a fall day's hue,
Cinnamon and sugar, through and through,
A comforting, familiar sound.
Crisp air, a fall day's hue,
Apple cider donuts, warm and round.
Trembling in the air, a white star does fall.
The soft precipitation has paid us a visit.
Quiet skies are unheard.
This beauty does not flaunt attention.
It simply falls, confident, and unmentioned.
As soon as observed, it draws people near.
A quiet, content day is soon to appear.
lizardly he slithers in
nursing his sloe glass of gin
lightning flashing from his eyes
functioning to disguise
who and what he really is
rolling pairs of snake-eyes
in the air a venomous hissing
is there something I am missing
a spec of dust in
the air a drop of moisture
reciprocal splash
~
winters renaissance
drops froze participation
dust in frozen aire
~
snow flakes abundant
drops of iced rain droplets
winters tears falling
12/17/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
The bag is empty
Air a plenty
The cat is out
Rise a shout
The cat is out
On the run
Pressure mounts
The setting sun
The cat is out
The night chills
Find kitty we shout
She missed a meal!
The cat is found
In the clouds
She passes by
Watch her fly
Kittie died...
This was done by....ApatheticMe...
Form:
How looks my love at dawn
in Spring
the air a festive vase
of hope
to lord each sprout of truth
with praise
and sing what only birds
announce
Her steps become a
garden path
her breath a fragrance
o’er the hills
to dance with future,
present, past
and spin each partner
—time undone
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)