Short Feathering Poems
Short Feathering Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Feathering by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Feathering by length and keyword.
love slept
as
rainbows wept
weeping willows
pillows tear depths
feathering clefts
landing softly
love slept
?
tracing footprints feathering in the sand
as ocean's blue waves calmly float across the edge
while puffy white clouds full of thunder and rain
slowly dance across the sky
Form:
Ribbon Dreams
A shrieking wind
tore the ribbon
from her bouquet
carried it twisting
into the trees
a forgotten dream
clinging to branches
gathered by Robins
feathering a nest
of ribbon dreams
©3/24/2019
RIBBON Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier - sponsor
As I slip into your velvety sweetness...
I feel my life feathering into yours
...we are one in an instant
We can not be separated any more
You will pour out if I'm emptied
I will remain inside you
our essence has mingled
your razored love slides down my weakness
Form:
Warm
are days
every Spring
as flowers bloom
and honeybees buzz
in search of sweet nectar.
The season of birth and growth
Songbirds sing while feathering nests
and leaves reappear on bare-limbed trees.
It's the time when nature paints the world green
Medallion moments dawdle,
shading hints of ruby and brass-
grains of sand linger,
like lost sand in an hourglass.
I feel the blazing embers of
heated passion in a lover's dream-
the sanctity of a desert landscape,
feathering a vista so serene.
July 24th, 2017
A feathering song,
Played upon the quills
Of winging seagulls,
Releases my mind
From the daily grind.
Glorious birds
Are the seagulls;
Welcoming all
To Gaia’s womb.
Once we’ve birthed;
Spread our wings,
And touch life;
The womb
Restores
Peace.
tweets the robin and
the sparrow changing chirping
singing to God tweets
~
so somber so sweet
birds engaging in praising God
early morning birds
~
tweeting praise the Lord
feathering loving frolicks
yes God talks to birds
9/29/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
well uh
this love
ain't for sale
or
a
rabbit egg
on
a
snail
run a little faster
rubbing words
on your tail
oh what a soothe
rub me some more
waves to the shore
oh this love
said oh this love
chasing albino bats
feathering maiden hats
tell me the truth before
you cut me loose
no no no
never
tighten up the noose
on
this love
?
These are the moments
That grip my heart with an iron fist
That shoot icy fire into my veins
The things that take the feathering fear
In the back of my mind
And twist them through my being
These are the moments
When the shroud of dread that envelops me
Threatens to consume and suffocate
And nothing...no, nothing can be done
But fall to my knees
And pray
A feathering song,
Played upon the quills
Of winging seagulls,
Releases my mind
From the daily grind.
Glorious birds
Are the seagulls;
Welcoming all
To Gaia’s womb.
Once we’ve birthed;
Spread our wings,
And touch life;
The womb
Restores
Peace.
4-23-2020
Enter the 'STRAND PICK D,any theme,any form' Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Descending Mallard Ducks
Soaring white, black grey and brown
landing on the greenery grounds picking
beaks injecting insects
walking closely together feathering
Peck, peck, pecking insects to digest
Peck, peck, pecking driving like a man on a mission
lounging on the autumn brown and green grounds
Soaring white, black grey and brown
12/7/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
OCTOPOEM POEM TYPE
a passing thought
of beauty, as the sun crowns
slowly departs into the west horizon
with blazing pillars of light
cirrus clouds on either side
feathering out like angel wings
as the moon traces behind
like a puppy dog on a leash
still, in a gorgeous sky-blue background
a vision not often seen
half written,
in number two pencil
in a spiral notebook
with the red front cover closed
forgotten.
10/5/2022
dented
can
hair
she grabbed me
rested me
in
her
hair
dented can
could only stare
we kicked it together
snowman'd the weather
turned it upside down
feathering leather
rented man
stare
dented can hair
?
...
uhm
wrote this after reading
an
broken wing write
broken wing wrote
"now i rest in my hair"
bunch other stuff
that line for me
sticks thick
...
..
.
...
..
.
Alone in the darkness
I can hear my demons whispering.
And I can feel the blade
Feathering against my skin
Then, just then
A moment of silence fill the air
But it has to go away
In the end it always goes away
And the demons come again
But it's different 'cause this time
They're determined to stay
But there is one way
One way to hear the silence again
***
For once it's utterly quiet
And quiet it will stay !
Form:
The color wheel spins
in the month of May
with every shade of green on display.
The moss mixes in dark spring emerald spreads
avocado ferns feathering asparagus sea breeze heads,
Erin kelly limes flash neon harlequins in the air
Grass lawn malachites sway a chartreuse pear glint
olive jaded myrtles mix in mantis mints
flow with sea-green pine shamrock tints.
All spinning
on the scene
with the color wheels of green.
APROPOS OF BIRDS OF DIFFERENT FEATHERS
Feathering their nests,
Off they flew to labors of love:
Working against war:-
Time for us to be as doves:
Where love is, war cannot be.
Today’s bald eagle’s
Symbolisms are reduced;
Except that of war:-
Time for us to be as doves:
Where love is, war cannot be.
Can’t clip a dove’s wing;
They’re eternally jointed:
But not the eagle’s:-
Time for us to be as doves:
Where love is, war cannot be.
Winter won't submit to the whims of Spring;
feathering the ground with white flakes of snow;
and burying any shoots that dare show.
There are no signs Spring is about to show;
for as Winter's icy breath forestalls Spring,
Her wailing winds fuel flurries of snow.
Trees, their frozen feet planted in the snow;
stand disgruntled with Winter's prolonged show,
shivering in the wind, they await Spring.
Smiling snowmen confirm: Spring's a no-show.
One part sugar, three parts fruits
One part zest
Pasticcio: a good blend, finesse
Outside
A Nightingale sings a sweet song
For its chicks still in the nest
Her toddler holds a wooden spoon
Ornate
A fine purchase
"Look"
She points
At the empty jars
On the window pane
One day
Her toddler will fly the nest
Like feathering chicks of the mother nightingale
Wide horizons awaits her
Now
They will mix the jam
For Jam Jar Tombola
Yasemin Balandi
Effortless
lilting
lyrical
their chemistry builds
as the house lights dim
cool
laid back
relaxed
getting you in the mood
for anything
Alto sax sends out postcards
up and down the G blues scale
amber spots in the ceiling
light up lounge lizards
sipping signature cocktails
absorbing the atmosphere
on a stone gone classic night out
Drummer shuffles
feathering the kick drum
while comping on the snare
keeping his eyes on the waitress
he knows this beat
by heart
A flock of kisses left the shores
Born of love and they be yours
On loving wings they shall fly
Lift your gaze and fill your eye
Quickly follows a skein of verse
Be of love, at your feet disperse
To bind me to that beating heart
To be of comfort whilst apart
Behind a feathering of thought
All the love that you have brought
And I that longing soul
And that you my heart control
And then came me
To you on wings of poetry
Oh that smile I miss
Sensual lips await the kiss
Form:
My cowardly self, said to my bravest version:
Be not too much,
Be not too less of me.
His eyes were darkly silted ponds,
His hands worn thin,
By the clutch of a shrinking skin.
My courage rose up
Dragon fisted; eagle hammered in the
Shuddering air.
‘Dare me’ it cried
‘Dare this dust to be light,
This feathering of small gods
To step forward and take the terror’.
My cowardly image
Shivered, hid its face
But stayed there quaking
As the bravest version it could be.
The sandy beach and the ocean
obviously do not understand each other.
Each wave falls upon the shore,
as if it had never met that shore before.
The sand attempts to flow away,
yet scuttled crab legs
and the weight of empty shells
slows it to a shackled crawl.
Eventually,
the unstable edge of that feathering lip
tumbles into the sea.
Then the salty, always thirsty water,
turns away to flow more swiftly
through the open gills and mouths
of the unanchored
and free.
I stand along the grey walls
of a sacred sanctuary
where her portrait hangs
immersing
eluding
shifting
in consummate chiaroscuro
like velvet, darkness drapes
across her almond cheeks
and I wonder
what the painter had in mind
when his last brush strokes
wet-on-wet
were glazing sfumato
blending
feathering
scumbling
the mysterious curves
of her lips
crestfallen or elated?
I wonder
Unlike love story
Sweet dawn you are not
in your embrace I`m not reborn.
A night with you gives birth to bitter regret.
A promise to not seek you out
will not help,
I love you more than life itself.
Nightfall brings long shadows
irresistible your allure,
Our lair is not feathering of tenderness
but thorns of demanding ferocity.
A pact we made in a church that reeked of burnt wicks.
desiccated roses and the redolence of death.
Our love is agony,
we can´t but clawing us asunder