Short Ivory Poems
Short Ivory Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ivory by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ivory by length and keyword.
Ivory Tigress
Escape your species perish
Pool full of your tears
For Raul Moreno's contest "Primal Instinct".
Teleological
hypotheses bore me
Tautological phraseology
snores me
A beer and a burger ~
I adore thee
Ivory hunting's disgusting, it's against the law
It's not to be tolerated, sticks in my craw
A practice inhumane
Boggles the brain
Proof that greed is a real major human flaw
Atheists work on the breaker box,
as Creationists source the power
Rewiring a changing system that’s flawed
—their lights flicker in an ivory tower
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Juvenile bride to be is nervous
Nervous in her bridal shower
White ivory wedding gown
Pearl and rhinestone threaded
In crown tiara
Waiting the day
To wed with
Her dear
Prince
4-12-2016
a missing note
the broken heart of ivory
silent in neglect
no soft touch
will sound the final tone
of longing's love
5/10/2020
contest - Flow with the Collum Lune
sponsor - nette enclaud
visual #1
I ncandescently shining white
V elvet soft to the touch
O val shaped shells of oysters
R ings embedded in walnut wood
Y ellowing slowly as it ages
written 09/02/2013
contest I LOVE FIVE!/ A FIVE LETTER WORD ACROSTIC |
Wedding bells chime
a New beginning set in place
taking the Innocence
to the next level of sophistication
man -wife
surrender spiritually
surrounded by Ivory's purity
a common peace fills the chapel
as ancient statues look
Ivory, shade of white.
It's called a "neutral shade."
Inviting and calming.
It's also versatile.
It evokes purity.
In use since Roman times.
Indeed a fine color.
Due to an injury, love's scars can be seen.
In matters of love scars fade like a dream
Scars of beauty they are declared.
Some refer to as ugly because they're scared.
Love leaves scars which most do possess.
Bestow scars of ivory to grace toughs who've conquest
(PoetrySoup Format)
. . like a famous composer tickling the ivory,
you create a timeless melody,
within me
-------------------
~ Sultry Simplicity ~
Ivory light fades
at solstice.
A coin in my hand
reminds me
that life is spent.
Still, I hold hope.
When darkness comes,
I rise.
Personal Challenge:
Theme: Mortality
Emotion: Hope
Color: Ivory
Season: Solstice
Form: Free Verse
Object: Currency
Verb: Rise
Graced by God
in artful design
statuesque in form and line
perfectly personified
to adoring eye
porcelain smooth
ivory white.
Changing perception in shade and light
crafted by skilled loving hands
that remain a mystery
within the embers of history
timeless beauty captured for eternity.
Peter Dome. copyright.2012.
Ignited within sound
A caressing hymn
Gingerly whispered
Delicately tasted
Fluid in movement
A perfect imprint
Intricately dancing
Sweetly forming
Burning in passion
A melodious familiar
Innocently calling
Cleverly convincing
Flooding in truth
An overpowering realization
Comfortably revealing
Soulfully consuming
high are the clouds those
puffy White Ivory clouds that
slowly sway in skies
~
and when it so rains
is it the angels sighing, crying
heavens view obscured
~
light blue background smooth
encapsulating white pearls
densed moisture combine
~
just for fun blocks sun
puffy white in the daylight
white ivory cloud
With a sacral dimple you can't miss
he looks like a hand carved ivory Angel
as I draw him close and feather him a kiss
he gurgles with laughter, "I'm your Angel"
Original Poem: My Little Angel
Posted on October 8, 2020
Sponsor: Gregory R. Barden for contest Rithimus Divisa 9
Ivory moon
how you make me swoon,
as you cast your ivory rays.
Uncertain thoughts
of costly talks
surrounded by a thunderess gaze.
Eye's of forgotten beauty
look upon,
as the ivory moon hum's a song.
Never the less
I must confess,
The song that moon did sing;
Made me feel a beautiful passion
As that ivory moon
comforted me.
Form:
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Night
Emotion: Calm
Color: Ivory
Season: Spring
Form: Limerick
Object: Wallpaper
Verb: Hiss
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
Last Spring, something hissed inside my bedroom
With no ivory moon, I felt the gloom
I tried to stay real calm
Even read Book of Psalms
But eyes on the wallpaper meant my doom
Please, please tell me if I am too much
Sometimes my personality overpowers
If I belabor a point, or scream, or such,
Please, please tell me if I am too much.
If I am losing it, or if I am out of touch,
I need to come down from ivory towers
Please, please tell me if I am too much,
Sometimes my personality overpowers.
Written October 6, 2022
They burnt tons of tusks
But the felled beasts
Remained silent still
In the spirit realm
Watching the fire slowly
Consume pieces of themselves
Waiting quietly
In that realm
Where their glorious trumping
Is not perceptible to the living
Waiting patiently
For their brothers, sisters
Sons, daughters and
Pieces of themselves
To join them
In the silence of the spirits
I love watching the snow fall,
very softly and gently to the ground.
The blanket turns from summer green,
to a blanket of ivory flakes.
Once whiter than white,
now ivory from the soot in the air.
What part do we play,
in this changing world we live in.
For better or for worse,
we all live here together.
Maybe one day the ivory flakes,
will return to the white snow.
Each poet dreams of a secret retreat,
an ivory tower in which to go.
Refuge from the turmoil of life,
isolated from the crazy world below.
A solitary place in which to write,
to enclose oneself in bliss and peace.
Perhaps a castle beside the sea,
where waves crash on rocks soothingly.
But this tower already exist within,
each time a poet takes up paper and pen.
Ivory flakes fall down in place
Of salted tears on somber face
Took all my love and left me ice
Wasn’t enough to make me cry
You snatched my soul years ago
With hot kisses that now are cold
Was warm with charm and I miss it
Alarms now warn you are narcissistic
I made a mistake in trusting you
Sadly I say I believed in you
So snowman I walk away today
You are cold and I refuse to stay
entrusted
unto that silent nature
of an abandoned soul
has her presence revealed
with each passing shade
that forgiving ivory
of coarsing need-
how might one approach
such an unrivaled mystery
that they might assume
it's bounty beyond the point
of envy-
fearing not the chaos incited
that they might be entwined
coveting the same interest
they've hungered for
Mandeville
An ivory flower shimmers in the crescent of
the moon's radiant glow.
I approached to gaze upon it.
To smell its fragrance.
To feel it's delicate texture upon my countenance.
But when I was about to,
the sun arrived,
invoking the moon to seek shelter behind God's apron.
Thus causing that wonderfully exotic flower
to dry, crumble, then turn to ash.
As my tears washed away its remnants.