Short Bathe Poems
Short Bathe Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bathe by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bathe by length and keyword.
Through my little fingers I'd peek
When I was a kid I would freak
Watching wicked witch melt
Frightful fear I then felt
That I wouldn't bathe for a week!
Before bed, have a hot
Bath with berry-scented
Bubbles or some perfumed
Bath salts. Lose your stress or
Be sensuous! Enjoy
Bliss! Better yet, at the
Beach, bathe in the warm sun!
Written Aug. 16, 2016 for Km Merryman's Pleiades B Poetry Contest
I seek
affectionate
moments of fluent love,
bathing myself in hope’s lather.
You bestow genuine comfort with ease
freely immersing me in faith.
I fear not the future-
it is all that
I seek.
Rictameter Contest
White Wolf
August 31, 2018
By day my dreams go drifting
of their own design
I find my mind wandering
down to the waterline
for a change of scene
let's you and me
go swimming in the sea
of tranquility
leave all cares behind
we'll swim away sometime soon
and bathe by the light of the silvery moon
R-ising sun shines early,
O-ctober eleventh morn;
N-ew dawn has broken
A-t the day when you were born.
L-et the beacon bathe your heart,
Y-our mind and soul too;
N-ight chill has disappeared into the dark, gray and blue.
R-ays from up above
A-re making a fresh start;
N-either dusk nor twilight,
A-llow the sun to bathe
Y-our heart.
J-ust let the morning break,
O-n twenty-fourth December;
C-old chill has evaporated,
E-arly dawn causes cheer.
L-et Saturday beacon warm
Y-our soul and your heart;
N-ight shadows disappear, as the raindrops depart.
M-isty Friday has passed,
U-nder the rays in bloom;
J-ust let the sunlight shine,
A-llow it to bathe your
R-oom.
Listen to poem:
Stretch out your arms
Lie on the mossy forest floor
Feel the cooling fronds
On your back
Be embraced.
Join the family of trees
As they chemically chatter
Beneath you. Silently.
Interlope and envelope
An exciting vibrancy
Of Autumnal shades
Before Wintery sleep pervades
Douse your soul
In the pine scented oil
Of calm, ancient, understanding
Bathe in the beauty
Of stillness..
(Ssshhh)
Raindrops of the monsoon
Touching thy lower lip to chin
By rolling, now, on the Kadamba flower
Dark blue clouds run in the bare chest of the sky
The sun in the opened emptiness; apathetically
Covers all your untold words
There are no other flowers on thy chignon
All in advance leaving for monsoon shower
For your coming step by step with rainy flower-
in that twilight
to bathe in the first raindrops
Chattogram © Mahtab Bangalee
I’ll scrape this mud off of my heels -
That’s caked from years of trudging.
And soak these wounds in orange peels -
To persuade scabs into budging.
This bar of soap, my sword of choice -
Will slay bruises that have haunted.
Replacing aches with citrus’ voice -
Who soothingly tunes the daunted.
This plunge of water, warm and welled -
Will calm my anxious weather.
And put to rest thoughts that rebelled -
As I bathe in crystal summer.
Tears can easily bathe the wounded soul
Flowing unhindered from sad, redden eyes
Do their part, helping the heart to console,
When desires, circumstances compromise
Tears can help us to compartmentalize
Sadness, and to uncover its sources,
There among our most precious resources
Then, while pondering on the deeper hurt,
And summoning our various courses,
Work with us, our future woes to avert.
Written February 27, 2022
D-awn is already shining,
E-vening shadows disappear;
N-ight cold chill has gone,
N-ew morn makes the mind clear.
I-nclement weather has turned into a fair and fine clime;
S-unrise starts to show up, letting me think of a rhyme.
N-ice greetings are sent
A-pril eleventh break of day;
P-ouring rain has stopped,
E-arly haze has faded away.
R-adiant rays up high are now burning so bright;
I-n the wide sky above, lanes are bathed with sunlight.
You cannot bathe today, woman told her handsome man.
I have company in there, and he does not like others to intrude.
He peeked in and saw a shark sitting on his throne, his can.
This put him in a rather awful, horrible, bad, rotten mood.
I thought you said he was bathing he accused his wife.
She did not know he was using her husband’s toothbrush and throne.
She did not want any trouble, any confrontation or strife.
He’s my friend in the afternoon, I suggest you leave him alone.
From beaming yellow,
To violent red,
Skin peels like the pages of a book of some unloved fate,
Groaning under the flow of the mistimed shower,
Both optimistic and naive,
Grass blades pierce like shards of shimmering glass,
As i lay.
The humm of a hidden chorus in the green soothes my wounds,
Performers flee,
Twisting and darting away from nothing it seems,
Only to find the red over and over,
Feet like a drum-line..
A wry little smile cracks in the irony,
For here i shall stay.