Short Console Poems
Short Console Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Console by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Console by length and keyword.
Mistletoe hung over the door
Is something one can not ignore
But candy kisses
Console the Mrs.
Since facemasks just ruin the score
Johnny Depp was playing a role
That his wife would never console
He took her to court
And will not abort
'til one or both are on the dole!
Let me ease my bottled pains
By igniting the beauty under your facade,
For i have deprived myself of that
But live to feel it through you.
summer night
walls of heat to walk through.
summer sweat.
my skin smells sweet.
no summer love to console me.
no summer dreams to take me away.
Poetry gives wings to the soul
Like music, it's meant to extol
Though betimes its place, to console
Inspirational it is, on the whole
Thick fog brings on rain,
it can't console the stripped trees
whose leaves pave the road...
while their drooping branches moan Fall
leaving as a sad sparrow.
Faded Presence
A weeping pillow
holds tightly to the remnant
scent of ecstasy,
inhaling faded presence
we console one another
John G. Lawless
6/20/2017
Painful wisdom tooth extraction blues.
Creamy ice cream is best possible cure.
Testing flavours might console me.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Strings of nighttime’s crystal roll
Where pen and ink drain mashed scroll
Till bubbles pop—-lines console!
Triad In 7 Beats
Contest: Nette Onclaud Feb 22/2017
We never felt as wholesome and also so unholy
As that rare once in a lifetime chance he had tried to console me
While he was deeply kissing my soft, small hand oh so tenderly.
A gentle smile can connect two souls
Brighten a dreary day with the capacity to console
Give it away freely
Warm and genteelly
A feeling of sweet tenderness it surely extoles
A gentle smile can connect two souls
Brighten a dreary day with the capacity to console
Give it away freely
Warm and genteelly
A feeling of sweet tenderness it surely extoles
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
That's what they always told her
But the prince is yet to behold her
So she began to loathe her
Life to her is over
No one can console her.
Released me from bondages of yesterday
And console me with your smiles of today
Regardless of the pain I will be having for next day
I am sure your smile will always be in my mind every single day.
post
impressions
obsess
the scene
yellow
cataracts
colour
bristles
synthesise
in twisting
twirls
to console
a troubled
mind
A masterpiece of creation woman is
With a treasure of feelings in her soul
Ready to give, to care, to love, to please
If a man, her heart, manage to console!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
07 SEPTEMBER 2014
We're scars meshed together
Crisscrossing each other
Meeting at forbidden points
Let's meet at the wake
Line up to console the ones left behind
We're stars that burned too bright
Worn out yet leaving our fragments behind
Voicings; shatterings! Suffer
But one; but then. Aches.
Frailly-ghostly, nightly wails.
As the pine tree shakes.
So left, useless to console
My own lone heart, days.
Yet drawn to what may break it!
As the pine tree sways.
They say it's not my business
to console her, to lend her grief
brief respite, for winds blow cold
on remote torments and regret;
yet death revived an ember,
a flare not shared since we were one
in better days that I cannot forget.
They burst on the scene
eager to paint the woodland
and lead falls parade
to inspire eyes that see
and console their mothers fears
then to brave the great unknown
as they make that leap of faith
date-3/6/2019
Sickle moon moves in sly
Cuts through the dark morose sky
Stars console from far
Sick mind shreds life in its clutch
Divine soul acts as healer.
_______________
September 21, 2017
For Line Gauthier's Contest :
Bite Size Poem No. 36
They say it's not my business
to console her, to lend her grief
brief respite, for winds blow cold
on remote torment and regret;
yet death revived an ember,
a flare not shared since we were one
in better days that I shall ne'er forget.
They say it's not my business
to console her, to lend her grief
brief respite, for winds blow cold
on remote torment and regret;
yet death revived an ember,
a flare not shared since we were one
in better days that I shall ne'er forget.
They say it's not my business
to console her, to lend her grief
brief respite, for winds blow cold
on remote torment and regret;
yet death revived an ember,
a flare not shared since we were one,
in better days that I shall ne'er forget.
Woe am I to whom your words have torn bits
Out from my heart only to smooth, console
Until I have again untangled wits.
Needful, I beg you patch this jagged hole
Drilled into my heart by your darkened soul.