Short Burgeon Poems
Short Burgeon Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Burgeon by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Burgeon by length and keyword.
When my body begins to burgeon,
I go to see my plastic surgeon.
His magic tucks and nips
will make me smaller hips;
but he just smiles and says, “Stop splurgin'.”
There once was a Scotch lassie called Sturgeon
Who ,in her youth ,was quite a curmudgeon
But when she took over from Salmond
She found that quite calming
And her better nature started to burgeon.
Let me do the prayer
Let me cast the rain.
You won't sleep so soon,
I won't let you drain.
Let the light take the leaves,
wings of laughter cherish the trees.
Stout bottom to hold beneath.
Expanding roots to help you creep.
Let the light dare not to go
Lord will help the storm to go.
Let my rain serve the poor,
I won't let you sleep
There's miles more to go.
Me and God Are Related
There must be way this can be translated;
May have waited for a while and hesitated;
Did take chance;
Knew in advance,
You can consider God and I closely related.
Jim Horn
My Life Had Been Barricaded
While I waded and deal we did was shaded,
Sins came down on me and had cascaded;
Then saw sturgeon
That did burgeon;
Can be seen in my hair that is badly braided.
Jim Horn
Over ten again
Sugar hill
Placebo pill
Candy cane
Taps on my window pane.
St. Patrick’s Day is a big thrill.
Morning glory
Telling stories.
Birth flower,
In the morning hours.
Smell the flora!
Four leaf clovers
Such a quarry
Findings are two leaves, three.
Sitting in the lea
Telling stories.
Leprechaun gold
Pay the tolls.
Riding bikes with no shoes on.
Having so much fawn.
Life to behold!
_________________________|
Penned March 06, 2015!
Willows whisper gratitude,
drooping branches sway,
they augur summers of serenity
and winters of decay.
Images of grace, gently shivering
in rains of sweet intent,
they burgeon like a testament
fulfilled and immanent.
Softly ornamenting
with their sprawls of elegance,
they pose like seasoned lovers
who have earned their permanence.
Sprightly dancing limbs of fancy,
mighty yet demure,
they signify endurance
for those untested and unsure.
rushing rapturous rhapsody
I heard since morning light
bathe the dried earth afresh
tumbling on burgeon swells
bulging to bubble breathe
an intoxicating balm, spice
waking sombre sojourners'
sighs ~ ah!
amidst a floating fragrances
tweedles of birdies romping
and so are giggles of chaps
dancing, playing, prancing
the skirt of trees bow languid
tired from onslaught winds
arms weak they fracture a few
yet standing still, up
High! ~
Lost I am in this labyrinth of desire
entangled and strangled this life couldn't be more dire
Pretention's all I see through this gloomy light
the wind's too blown my soul into a plight
Dispirited I creep along this miry winding lane
to find a way out of this stinging weeds of pain
Pushing against a squall of gall I shove
to have a glance of that cherished love
Tender my heart though, inside hopes still burgeon
will there be a day when I saunter in the rosy dawn
Willows whisper gratitude,
drooping branches sway,
they augur summers of serenity
and winters of decay.
Images of grace, gently shivering
in rains of sweet intent,
they burgeon like a testament
fulfilled and immanent.
Softly ornamenting
with their sprawls of elegance,
they pose like seasoned lovers
who have earned their permanence.
Sprightly dancing limbs of fancy,
mighty yet demure,
they signify endurance
for those untested and unsure.
Willows whisper gratitude,
drooping branches sway,
they promise summers of serenity
and winters of decay.
Images of grace, gently shivering
in rains of sweet intent,
they burgeon like a testament
fulfilled and immanent.
Softly ornamenting
with their sprawls of elegance,
they pose like seasoned lovers
who have earned their permanence.
Sprightly dancing limbs of fancy,
mighty yet demure,
they prophesy endurance
for those untested and unsure.
Willows whisper gratitude,
drooping branches sway,
they promise summers of serenity
and winters of decay.
Images of grace, gently shivering
in rains of sweet intent,
they burgeon like a testament
fulfilled and immanent.
Softly ornamenting
with their sprawls of elegance,
they pose like seasoned lovers
who have earned their permanence.
Sprightly dancing limbs of fancy,
mighty yet demure,
they prophesy endurance
for those untested and unsure.
Willows whisper gratitude,
drooping branches sway,
they promise summers of serenity
and winters of decay.
Images of grace, gently shivering
in rains of sweet intent,
they burgeon like a testament
fulfilled and immanent.
Softly ornamenting
with their sprawls of elegance,
they pose like seasoned lovers
who have earned their permanance.
Sprightly dancing limbs of fancy,
mighty yet demure,
they prophesy endurance
for those untested and unsure.
stay your hand
with its obtund touch
take away your arid mouth,
your incurious eyes from me,
from my unscaled sight
you are but dull clay,
Ozymandias, barren
and I am fresh green
that strives for the light
spilling from your crumbling ashlar
jubilant, with scarlet buds
to catch the rain
and burgeon in its caress
to sway with the tumult of the wind
to kiss the voluptuous sky
to lay my feet on the lush earth
to live, to thrive
far away from your desert
We strive in a round world with square believes
A square sky seated on bridled outcast clouds
Forced to hold round raindrops
Released to soak square grounds that bear round seeds
Round seeds burgeon at the labour of deformed clouds
But at the end of round days,
Out of round holes in square grounds
deformity was brought forth
A cylindrical stem bearing
on its head a diversity,
Leaves and flowers not just square or round
But straight out of a square box.
Let the name be forgotten
Let the skin tone be rotten
Burn the face; kill the looks
Let the identity be unknown
Alone let the wanderer wander
Shapeless; intangible to gusts of emotions
No one to ask; no one to be shown
And beyond the world of bigots,
Who claim to be different but are different
Who smile at face but stab at back
Let the shapeless stray
Let the thoughts prevail and burgeon
Beyond spoilers of I and thee
Let the faceless smile; let the wanderer be free
Form:
Willows whisper gratitude, drooping branches
sway in breezes of full plenitude; they promise
summers of serenity and winters of decay.
Images of grace, gently shivering
in rains of sweet intent, they burgeon
like a testament fulfilled and immanent.
Softly ornamenting with their sprawls
of elegance, they pose like seasoned lovers
who have earned their permanence.
Sprightly dancing limbs of fancy, mighty
yet demure, they prophesy endurance
for those untested and unsure.