Short Atop Poems
Short Atop Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Atop by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Atop by length and keyword.
over the mountain
those views ever so better
atop the clouds now
5/3/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018©
Atop your pedestal
Life is grand
Brain in pocket
Deed in hand
‘Tis a cage not a refuge
Ignorant bird
But “let’s all eat cake”
‘Twas all that was heard
September sunday break of dawn
A pious flock of pigeons circle gracefully
They’re gathered for high mass
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Lightning heard
Thunder seen
Moses standing
In between --
Ram's horns blaring
The cosmos staring --
G-d's stlll small voice
with Israel sharing
Ponderance from Poet Atop a Mountain
The path I follow
until I can’t go further;
A chasm prevents me
from reaching the other side,
and so I dally henceforth.
THE BEAUTY ATOP OF THE ROSE
Roses are a beautiful thing
the bloomed and the petals
Many colors vibrant bright
Oh, but the stems do bite
05/15/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
2018©
High atop a mountain, a windswept hill
I thought I'd found my true love, name of Jill
We arched our backs and kissed
I thought I heard a 'Pssst'
My wife?! ~ Her lawyer will send me the bill
Butterflies lightly flap their wings
appear as leaves that fall from trees
carefree flight which seem at ease
simple beauty meant to please.....
up high lit atop
a city power lines
keeping warm their feet
~
chilling winds yet still
they stand atop those power
lines mock winter's cold
11/11/22
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Sitting atop a time bomb
realised i am the fuse
imagination not my mistress
but i do like
how shes dressed
Writing words that
are never said
Words that cant keep secrets
or bleed into
the parchment
never be erased
If I did not wake
Or didn't stir
Nor ever utter a single word
This, hear then, as if never heard
That to man atop an ocean led
All the things he should have said
It is only in the ocean's deep
The treasures captive in his sleep
like tonight's moon
illuminating this snow
your love shines
upon me
i watch
the gleam of stars
dance in your eyes
beneath its glow
as you draw closer
my lips quiver
in the expansion of air
as yours whisper
in the silence
of a kiss
Atop thy holy hill,
Thy pine – so banished – weeps.
It reaches high for clouds of rye
But falters incomplete.
Atop thy holy hill,
Thy servants kneel and pray.
In holy stone thy bell atones
And beckons forth the day.
‘Why dost thou hide behind thy wooden doors…’
Until I sit atop a golden throne
And wear and golden crown and golden rings
On hands that take the land with divine right--
I doubt I shall rule over anything.
Our dreams are drifting clouds no hand can hold,
Our spirits slip through tightest prison bars,
And love's kingdom exists where earth meets sky--
Rich pastures I have only seen from far.
As I cross over the bridge
It lives it lives
Waters flowing splashing
Going
It gives it gives
The moon up above
Moves the waves
To and fro
From the shores
I stand on the bridge
And I gaze up upon the skies
And I see the stars and the Moon reflexes it's light on me
7/8/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
With this
Vale of Belvoir
And solitude
I sit upon
A lonely mountains top
Looking in the direction
Of a distant
Ice land
Felling its weather
Push
Upon my cold face
A chilly wind
And deep blue sky
That lets me see
A thousand miles
Before clouds drop
To wipe
This mountains top
And reduces
My vision
My lofty thoughts
To this spot
Atop this mountain
With no more
A vale of belvoir
Atop a mountain looking abroad
Eagles fly out freely, far and wide
Space seems like an arms reach
Watching Earth's floor from aside.
No sense of direction from here
Like a pause in space and time
The brain turns but all is numb
Silence plays a different rhyme.
Drifting away on a different plane
Worlds so near yet so far and apart
Atop this mountain, like a painting
Peaceful still life, a world with art.
I encompass a rebel within
A need for eccentricity
No trespassing signs don't win
Over my curiosity
I find it quite appealing
Sporting a sleeve of paint
Though palms erect, kneeling
I wasn't born a saint
Rules don't suit my fancy
A bit disagreeable
Guidelines make me antsy
A domesticated bull
Pleasantly off color
A delightful rose with thorns
Smelling of burnt rubber
A bow atop my horns
Our chateau promised picnic....
Upon the seashore sands
Strawberries and champagne
Cream, bathed amid beauty's
Silkened moonlight hands....
Soft sweet laughter
Caressing crystal's glass
Desires delicious platter
In destiny's, eternal plans....
Pink adorned pieces
Aside luscious perfumed pairs
Oceans tides of love
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...."Atop, Blue And White Squares" *
Form:
I am sitting on
the mountaintop
looking at the terrain
the clouds are moving
and the wind is blowing
it seems dense covering terrain
it never stops wind blows
the tree waving sources
cascading clouds
manipulating humidity turn to rain
In tuned to my surroundings
I Sitting here atop the mountain top
Spying the terrain
7/18/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2024
I stood atop mountains, green to red, saying
to lightly skies "hello there" and "from
where do your winds come?" From where
do they come thought I in my heart
of hearts, inside which is harbor
to all inspiring things. It was at
that time I sought clarity, thanking
God for hills that ribbon-roll, and the
Atlas-who-shrugged touch of greenly breeze.
I stood there, atop mountains green to red,
and the wind answered me.
A seal atop
a buoy. At anchor we popped up
to such a sight in the Lynher River.
Just how could it balance so? – sleek
and slippery on this sphere, wobbling in the water.
Sighted it slid into the tideway. Into the salt sea, cloudy
with silt suspended, we peered, and wondered.
But then to show us how, it surged
and sprang to perch once more,
as if to pose for a picture.
We were in thrall
as at a circus.
Topping!
You spend many years amid some crowd their world
Marking time about shadows ? Wanting, myself to react
Perhaps spin a loop or two and nucleus how they dig it when
We loose these bolts take another bite out of Jane as Joey's tune....
Knowing there is no veneer to this child albeit volatile his, multiplex flesh
Ever transmitting, revulsive frequencies ? Rhinestone reflections colourless glass
Warped mirrors oblong shores; revolving doors phantom dreams ? In reveille.
Form: