Short Burgeons Poems
Short Burgeons Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Burgeons by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Burgeons by length and keyword.
burgeons’ aroma
myriad hues of festoons
mother earth’s birthday
Spring Haiku - Traditional Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Syllable count : PS
Date: 29-03-2021
Placed: 5th
Sorrow is the one thing we show
Like a tear I caressed your face
Life unkind burgeons
wild shadows
hoover nye
A light may
shine one day
Don't torture your mind
Ride a carousel that never
touches the ground
As is the generation of leaves
So is that of humanity
The wind scatters the leaves on the ground
But the live timber burgeons with leaves
Again in the season of spring returning
So one generation of men will grow while another dies
As is the generation of leaves
So is that of humanity
The wind scatters the leaves on the ground
But the live timber burgeons with leaves
Again in the season of spring returning
So one generation of men will grow while another dies
Adapted from The Iliad
Homer
Like upturned earth on haunted eves for which the beasts replete do seeth toward crisp remoteness the zepher stone burgeons and clasps those boney hands and ushers toward us. Indeed, the fallow are now spent, they rent those waters for healthier hands, but pure and brilliant are not synonymous with a hot-to-trot village filled to the top.
Beauty burgeons
From the soul like a rose
Preparing to blossom
And give out
Its loving scent around
Without a thorn
Upon its stem
When you tear
Someone's heart apart
The soul is smeared
By the fear
Of what is to come
When it comes to blossom
There will be thorns
Upon its stem.
Free Verse © CarolineCecile - 04.06.12
Walkers and pickers
Of countrysides, fair.
Sweet briar; cherry blossom.
Trailing arbutus.
Follow. Whilst love-teared, too wide
Struggle most that look to hide.
Tender and nervous.
As rich, thick-scented
Whose rarefied air.
For what burgeons, peculiar
To poetic thought.
Sacred in soul's kindred sense
Breath it in as twere incense.
As devoutness ought.
c.rosseti
e.dickinson
Like any transition Summer springs from a bud and burgeons into bloom, fulfilling the legacy of nature's constant change of state. Gone but remembered.
From frolicking in the sweltry sun to a cooling composure - the questing quill sows its elucidating wisdom to embark on a final journey - crafting the legacy. Gone but remembered.
Autumn! Season of fecund harvest when poets forage for mocking muses amidst the gaudy palette of fading charm. Gone but remembered.
whate'er the sun
hunts up the sky
is meant, as lace
to grace the eye
in dazzled dreams
that dance a-sea
and weep that fills
the rills and leas
for what light paints
in day's dear death
can gift one’s gaze
yet steal the breath
as eve’s dark bloom
thus burgeons, ours -
sweet butt’ry moons
… and silvered stars.
( for the “No 1256 New Poem Only” Poetry Contest, Brian strand, Judge/Sponsor )