Short Harkening Poems
Short Harkening Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Harkening by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Harkening by length and keyword.
Harkening back to the grandeur of Greece and Rome
The dark fog of repression would slowly lift
Long cloistered souls found a brighter home
Minds free to create, no greater gift
10/29/22
This Or That, Vol 14 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Lead point scratching
Pink eraser scrubbing,
Ticking time catching
My eyes, I'm rubbing
Inspiration sparing
Rhyme and word fighting,
White lines staring
Thumb and finger writing
Yellow #2 shrinking
Lines ever darkening,
My eyelids blinking
My mind harkening
Hours ever zooming
Crumpled paper piling,
Good enough is looming
I find myself smiling.
Your smile beckons my heart
To come
As soothing rays of the sun
Nurturing famished hearts with warmth
As keys to the essence of your soul
Unlocking golden secrets yet untold
As stirrings of a gentle but persistent wind
Generously caressing both lovers and friends
As welcoming as a long-lived tree
A familiar yet majestic thing of beauty
Your smile beckons my heart
To come
TAHITI
If you leave, the island
Rests a sad face on its paws
And longs for your return,
Harkening for the oar-splash
Of your approaching boat.
If you never return,
It remembers your face
All life long.
...........................
Historical Note
Mutineers on the BOUNTY had to leave the island and never return, but it stayed in their consciousness forever.
Night filters sight and sound
into separate caves of awareness,
Owls and nightjar's duet
in different tunnels of time.
For generations
the forest has gathered here,
it has its own language,
one rooted through layers
of nocturnal sentience.
In the harkening cabin
sounds interface,
lull mind and ears,
into imaginary auditoriums.
Subliminal arboreal words
read me to sleep -
thoughts rustle like
whispering leaves.
Some say April is the cruelest month, leaving
Lilacs upon unmarked graves, grieving
Memories fading and desires, aching
To be filled as the undertaker, undertaking
Daydreams of warmer hands and seaside towns
Some say September is the cruelest, harkening
Back to wounds still so very deep, darkening
The sky and every teary eye that looks up, searching
For a dove, a crow, a bluebird, perching
On a branch beside a single leaf of brown.
September’s end descended swiftly
on the island of Manitou, as dark clouds
and strong winds vanquished yesterday’s
sun, bringing gray skies and cold rain.
In the fields, sandhill cranes gather,
then lift, en masse, silhouetted against
a sombre sky, their raucous cries harkening
to prehistoric times as they disappear across
the horizon following the east wind which
will carry them to Michigan and beyond.
We lower our heads and pedal on.
Like a painting.
Almost the same thing,
Except not so flat.
And more than that-
Blooming effortlessly.
As if by destiny.
But its true fate,
Is for its beauty to abate.
That is what happens to an eclipse.
After a moment, time will elapse.
Colors that move on.
Feels like waking up at dawn.
This afternoon,
Is not full of doom.
Just a moment of shade.
Harkening a halo of jade.
Thank you sun, thank you moon.
We hope to see another show soon!
When a smile gives you a reason to liv
How can affection not be the first thing you choose to give
When a kiss gives you a long forgotten tingle
Harkening back to the days when the world was single
When looking into your eyes makes me see the stars
Like I just witnessed a super nova burst from a far
You are so incredible that words can not describe
What my soul, my heart, my essence, my spirt does derive
From just seeing your beautiful eyes come alive
Fiery Flames of mornings early light,
A lonesome bird caws, then soars in flight
An illuminated sky, streaked in strains of grey,
Harkening the advent of another day
Phantom clouds pause, slowly passing by;
Wistful trees, shedding their seasonal display,
Winter, is not far away
Listen to poem:
*Image of Vulnerability by The Conversation.
Coma
Endeavoring eyes opened
to the nothingness ere it.
Harkening labyrinths aches
to the silence yond.
Alone spoke I and
loneliness echoed
in faint whispers.
There remains
a trace of me
airing silently
the breath of
belonging.
Inspired: 2022 March 28
*7th Place*
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 4
~~Mark Toney: Judged 2022 June 25
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND 1098
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2022 March 30