Short Irrigate Poems
Short Irrigate Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Irrigate by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Irrigate by length and keyword.
Let the river of love in our heart flow free to irrigate the arid plains of human despair!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
26 February 2017
Rain.... come softly, falling, misting,
Irrigate this thirsty land
Water quiescent seeds
Buried deep within their earthen tombs
Of mud and clay
reverie dawdles
cascading down fount of life
irrigate Spring's grace
March 6, 2018
a strange thirst grows
for an undefinable nectar
to irrigate arid emptiness
blissful melancholy pulsates
heart is vibrant but alone
we feel no lack and yet seek
that elusive mist soul uplifting
caress of love divine sublime
Fallen angel! Why are you scared?
Why you dwelt alone in shadow?
Why you tighten your fists?
why threaten the whole life?
i know, afraid to .love,
let tenderness pour from your eyes
to irrigate the earth and the light of love, silently,
will lift you on the heaven again.
The Birdsong of Ludovico,
New to my agnostic ears,
Commences unrestrained
From a godly source
To irrigate my fields,
To rearrange my clouds,
To tantalize my doubts,
To render my cathedral..
His royal nest of birdsong notes
Fills my congregation
With an unknowable truth:
Yes there is a source,
I can be sure,
I am not lost.
What is not worth aiming at
survives to pull a thousand more triggers.
Squib rounds from damp pop-guns
later are recorded as wisdom.
Hacks have a smaller target
on their backs than original thinkers.
No use to wail or gripe,
mud churns
worms irrigate, self-mate,
the odd unique bloom
grows unnoticed
until stumbled upon
or trampled over.
At last, long last
I saw him leave
Leave for good
And a stern stare
That followed him
Saw him turn not
Towards me
Not once
I swear!
For if truth be told
He turned not at all!
But hurried forth briskly
To a point north of here
To his dear mademoiselle!
My tears will not cease
To irrigate my bosom
My stare will not decrease
For in the midst of all this
I dare not my strength
Discountenance, dare I?
Thou airy ship, thou whitish mist!
Thou float on ocean and the dale
Thou art a painting by my Lord!
A painting which is not for sale
Thou sooth the hearts of all on earth
Thou heaths and meadows irrigate
Thy castle is in airy field
From earth and heaven isolate
O sailing boat, o shroud of earth
Thou child of sky and forlorn sea
Thou fly with gales soon after birth
O thou that in a wink can flee
In dreams
I know not where I go
Same as studying nature's flow-
Crops we must irrigate
Shelter be sustained
What else?
Is mankind insane?
In dreams i drift unbeknownst
Like discovering lost treasure
In whose clasp I weather
Unconcerned about a fool's errand
Now I'm older
I've seen
Those needy addicts plunge-
Knowing the impossibility
Of digging yourself out of a hole
What more?
Nature I ask:
For what reason
Was I planted here?
Our soul is but
A drop of celestial rain
That
Is born out of the vapors of spirituality's ocean
Destined
To irrigate materiality's arid planes of ignorance
So as
The flowers of wisdom blossom in our hearts and minds
For
Their aroma guides us onto the path of love and compassion
That God for us has traced,
Before
It evaporates and returns to its divine home!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
01 October 2022
There'll be no rain the forecast said
til January's wounded pride
erupts upon the bloomless beds
and weeps a pewter morning tide.
There'll be no rain for many weeks,
just plenitudes of overcast
that burn away as daylight peaks,
when noon's anemic sun is cast.
There'll be no rain, no wet respite
to irrigate depleted earth,
just flaxen grass in withered plight
that dampens all my yuletide mirth.
There'll be no rain this Christmas Day,
just arid hillsides' umber splay.