Short Eavesdrop Poems
Short Eavesdrop Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Eavesdrop by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Eavesdrop by length and keyword.
The lively never truly listen,
But the dead they do, they even eavesdrop on your every word.
They collect and collect it in like dust.
Form:
EAVESDROP
listen with eyes closed
words drifting in and out of
sleep at midnight hour
5/18/2017
Senryu Form
In nature trails, forests, green meadows
I love to dwell and eavesdrop on
that dulcet songbird chorus
wakening the dawn haze
where rustic wild life
and spring water
hint at lush
tranquil
lairs
I
Believing ...
(Is not a complete thought, say grammarians, maybe from Gramercy)
KNOWING ...
is better
Listening ...
may be best
II
When did I know
That listening to both male and female
I'd BELIEVE in EQUALITY
eavesdrop on a Galaxy?
I wonder where the wind goes
To be alone
To listen
To the whispers
Of idle leaves
Eavesdrop on the
Ripples of the pond
Succumb to the silence
Of nature’s hum
Huddle in the shade
With un-tumbling tumbleweeds
Vagabonds sharing a story
In a dusty train yard
encompassed
in the last days
of summer
i eavesdrop
on the ocean's whisper
your voice carried
in its sighs
your caress
in its waves
as i undress
seduction
within its salty spray
as i bathe
in drops
of your scent
the horizon
blushed
in tones
of me
beneath
this memory
Day of the Dead?
Is it something he said?
America misled.
Deceived at the top,
Easy to eavesdrop.
Lies all around
Our confusion compound.
Shall the truth be found?
Made in USA:
Undercover foray.
Everyone has their say.
RIP Native Son.
Trump's reign is done.
Our country has won.
Send him off on the run.
Janece Terry
November 1, 2019
Each day
I eavesdrop to hear your voice
and simply glance to see your face.
Each day
I really want to talk to you, or just a little chat.
I wish to sit beside you and lean on your shoulder.
Each day
My mind is occupied, filled by the thoughts of you.
My heart flutters just by seeing you.
Each day
I am waiting
waiting for that moment.
15-04-11
Nightingales eavesdrop on our beautiful chant with the violin
Tender verses verbalized our pure sentiments from within
Spring knocked the door...
~~~ S ~~~
~~~P**R~~~
~~~I**N~~~
~~~G~~~
Eavesdrop on silence
my hand covers my face
I listen to peace within
the one hiding under my skin
After a moment, faraway voices
and footstep above...
bring a completion of harmony
Peace achieved
moving to the next step
where my soul searches
for those moments of achievement
that life provides...
the ongoing quest for peace within
A renewal in constant evolution
M. 25-01-2014
Eavesdrop into my ear the sweet nectar that I hear
Who did what to whom? I need to know how this ends
It fulfils me
I'll just sit and listen, don't you worry for I wont intrude
I hear subtle tones of welcoming for which you elude to
I'll steal your stories as I steal glances
Hoarding them
I work alone though others are in on it too
An audible tabloid for all to hear
Hear ye hear ye
I hear you and so can this whole subway
Madame, thou art mature and must I say...
Thy wine is old and pleasing to the taste
The love you give to me no one could weigh
Yet eyes eavesdrop on evenings we embrace
Your years above my age is their distaste
For you came like a cougar in the night
Desires upon my flesh you did delight
After our lips would play and kiss with tongue
We lay in love and looking in the light
You would say I was old and she was young
Johnny Sumler
COUGAR EFFECT
Soap bubbles float through August
breeze
as children sneak in hushed delight, where fables reel 'neath maple trees
to glide away like jewels bright.
Now listen...elves and wizards hop
their peek-a-boos enhancing games
in dreamy land where stars eavesdrop;
creating tricks with playful names.
Here, fancy of new summer rings
when kiddies dance, "let bubbles flow",
while clear froths pop through dusk which
sings
before day ends their treat, aglow!
Claws step over ear bones,
tap on the tin roof. The cabin
creaks like an ark.
All day winding along
a Kentucky ridge line,
to lodge a night
in a bow-beamed shack.
I fry bacon and bread
on a smoke-licked skillet
as black as a fossil;
then settle down to listen
to April starlight
sweeping timbers.
Dark pelts pace moon trails.
Night birds hunt;
sloe washed wings flick shadows
through briery pines.
I sip an amber glass of bourbon
eavesdrop,
on my sleep-walking soul.