Short Bay Window Poems
Short Bay Window Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bay Window by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bay Window by length and keyword.
red and orange peonies
in a lemon colored vase
catching the red sunset rays
evening bay window
all the day has come to this
when the night blooms are waking
vivid hues above, below
welcoming the dark
From bay window
Pouring down sunshine
Garden soothing finds
Loud talking breezes
Camera shot neighbor
Vexing call
Come out to play
Mix it up
The fresh air way
No matters to what is done
Feeling free is the main strung
midst blue wintry haze
welcomed sunrays
find their way on tiptoe
and at bay window
the content kittycat
purrs sleepily
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~SNOW WHITE~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
I sit at my bay window,
I see the clean laundry,
A bird just demanded a rewash on a shirt,
Three men run as a car alarm goes off,
Sad victim, he just lost his stereo,
The fruit market opens, todays special, bruised apples,
Well time to go to my job at the 11th precinct.
in the late night hours
i like to take things slow
i sip a glass of chardonnay
merlot or pinot grigio
through my bay window
i'm watching the fall of snow
i sit back and relax
setting the lights down low
with pen in hand
i just let the words flow
AP: 2nd place 2025
sunday sunrise
breaking through
bay window
coffee brewing
the aroma inebriating
crossword puzzle
pencil in hand
and in the kitchen
dreamy wafts
of costa rica java
mingling with
perfumes of
strawberries
and waffles
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~CAFFEINE INFUSION~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2021
A cat called Eleanor
ponders from a pillow
in a bay window,
the lives of the willow and songbird.
The willow is a short-lived tree
which spends a lifetime
weeping about it
while shorter-lived songbirds
roost in the droopy boughs
cheerfully celebrating another day.
The easy climb could
make for a tasty snack.
06/08/15
He races 'cross the fenceposts
As perky as can be
Pausing abruptly, occasionally
As like a statue as a tree
Sniffing the air around him
Head cocked this way or that
Wondrous sense of balance
Lithe and graceful as a cat
Some call him a rodent
Others deem him a pest
Yet viewed from my bay window
A squirrel's a most welcome guest
Over the pine trees the ball I threw
Neighbor’s bay window the ball went through
My neighbor asked me if I would?
Come over to his house, split a cord of wood
In the woodpile see the chipmunk pray
I do not want to be the Bald Eagle’s prey
From the woodpile a gagging scent
A payment my neighbor’s skunk had sent
Over the pine trees the ball I threw
Neighbor’s bay window the ball went through
My neighbor asked me if I would?
Come over to his house, split a cord of wood
In the woodpile see the chipmunk pray
I do not want to be the Bald Eagle’s prey
From the woodpile a gagging scent
A payment my neighbor’s skunk had sent
She opened the bay window to better see the swans
They encouraged tranquility; inspiring peace and love.
The neighbor’s garden is gorgeous in April.
She took off her reading glasses to get a better look.
The sky is perfect today, a marvelous color of blue.
There is a purity in the air, an indescribable ambiance.
She leaves her coffee for a few minutes
To find her camera, hoping to capture this tranquility.
Looking out my bay-window,
I am feeling the new day and seeing colors of indigo.
The pretty indigo sky with big white fluffy clouds,
turning ominous and into dark thunderclouds.
My neighbors pretty garden of indigo flowers,
are getting a drink and much needed showers.
Domestic Bliss Is Feeling,
the love from living out doors is healing.
Domestic Bliss Is Seeing,
out my bay-window because it is freeing.
Pressure, pressure
Why can’t they leave him alone
Today the bay window
Demonstrates a panorama of beauty
He longs to go there
Taste the salt sea
To sail away from all this
Back to Jamaica
To places he had been when young
When laughing in the rain
When there was a now
The future too far away to contemplate
Clouds are gathering
There will be rain in the afternoon
The bay window
Has tearstains from
Too many yesterdays
It's good to hear the geese going places
I wait for the last honk
and return to the keyboard.
Occasionally the earth and sky gets symphonic,
each sound-stream orchestrated
to build upon other sonics.
The bay window has large ears
it wide-views, it listens panoramically.
An audience behind my eyes
tries to follow all the rhythmic tones.
Sometimes my black Labrador
will roll his eyes my way
and then I know I am whistling
the same tune he is listening to.