Short Moored Poems
Short Moored Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Moored by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Moored by length and keyword.
No respiration
Stranded and moored blue buttons
Drying on the strand
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
summer season by the lake-water warm
black flies swarm, in boat’s wake
floating dock moored to a stake
mallard ducks follow the drake
A word is just a word
dormant on a plate
until..
it is read seen heard
or maybe too late
A soul is just a sole
floundering pon the shore
til its fed a life line
gutted or moored
Written: November 26, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand
************
Keep me moored to your shadow as I drift to your dazzling horizon.
The insomnia came in cloud covered fragments
with its mother, Depression.
As silent and pallid as she,
her hand clasped tightly to her,
as if two gray spirits that moored
in a silvered sorrowful tide.
out from me sins poured (5)
always thankful to my Lord (7)
my ship safely moored (5)
to see you glad will be (5)
and thank you for loving me (7)
God set my soul free (5)
This are my Horn Haikus for the day.
Think that of me, as you
head to the sea,
A beach upon which
a boat can be moored,
a signal lamp stored,
for safety and comfort,
or a notion of home,
Wherever you go,
whenever you roam.
It's hard to feel like
your growing up when you're moored
- sheltering at home.
I am patiently
waiting to take the helm of my
life's navigation.
My life, so far, is
prelude - I long to cast off
and exit the slip.
Hemmed in by the Nearness
Held back by the Now
The wishful striver, always, who
O'ercome both somehow.
Lost in an isle's sailed thrill
Sea-hazed, whilst safe moored!
As far unfound, delirious
Whilst by Time's Sea shored!
We are two wandering ships...
two love boats
when permanently
moored together...
found passionate
sailing at sea
of love...!
Sun penetrates icicles drip
Morn's sun melts sandy snow
Moored to the shore with ropes sturdy
Trapped in a boat no go
Icicles drop cold liquid like tears
Shed for life's soon parting
What will the eaves do for diamonds
When gems have departed
the moored hulls
drop
down in the haze
rise again
like wet birds
the boats slip
in and out
of the mist
come back painted by
distant seas
wet ropes squeak
rigging rattles as they list
water is shipped
whitecaps last seen
in a shipwrecked
china teacup
Trouble comes
still i glide over it's waves,
It is below the keel
letting me drift
to ecstasy,
Moored in peace isle
Peace is divine,
for we wrest havens that stay
unclench our palms to see it vanish
In vile burnt fields;
We wonder if it can ever be
moored in glade and rill
resting in claggy stodge
boggy green and juicy with rain
my walk sloshes with plunger feet
Mire of the Northern Rain Forest
May 16, 2020
Brians Choice G Poetry Contest
September 8, 2020
Rithimus Divisa 5 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Gregory Barden
Lake view, far off, smooth of complexion
With eve's allure powdered on.
Man and woman, two-seated, twin-oared.
Burdens boated. To eyelines moored.
In wake of moon's syrupy-dipped glance
Of romantic binding substance
Forgetfulness, as pure escapade.
Frothless sped out on. Undismayed.
I’m a broad who’s abroad
And I’m traveling toward
Where my tour will be moored
For the night.
Every view has me floored
And what can’t be ignored
Is that what I’ve adored,
Each new sight,
In my brain will be stored
So that when I am bored
I’ll recall what I’ve scored
With delight.
Horrific hound’s horrid hair
Holding human hatred
Haggardly hawk hones hooks
Harping harlot’s whoring haze
Mean mares manes maddens mind
Marauders mane my mainstay
Mobility moored most menacing
all at sea, my restive heart
waters are calm, but in calmness
moored
the bounty of a lover's soliloquy
raging torrents bequeath a joy
you ask of beauty's tapestry, guided
yet do I seek
yet do I fold in conjecture
nature's bliss, consuming waves
please...
I ask in limerence
and we, ships sail away
The hulls of small boats
drop down into the morning fog
then return like rising seagulls.
The moored
slip in and out of the mist
then return painted
by a deep diving sky.
Sinking or flying, the small craft
slip through our vision
like leaking ghosts.
They roll upon an obscure air
shipping cloudy waves,
a swell last seen
in shipwrecked teacups.
You keep me anchored
Safely moored to the shore
A beautiful harbor
Is where I reside
A sweet cove secure
From the incoming tide
Dare I drift away
Your grasp holds me back
Although a storm comes today
I'm not pulled into the black
But sweetly stowed in your seaport
As you bravely battle the fray
And I'm forever in your court
As I'm lovingly locked away.
I am a vessel on a sea
within the harbours sanctuary,
its granite arms enclose me safe
and mask the waters stormy face.
Here I am moored in a small life
protected from the gales of strife,
the whispering sounds beyond the walls
I cannot distinguish at all.
Oh from taught chains I would be freed
then unrestrained I’d gather speed
outbound to the expansive sea
the synthesis of liberty.
Listen to poem:
Cart before horse
Drink the horse to water
Spill the bean to go-betweens
Hold hands to stay the course
Bygones never happened on, by here
Slay the messenger! Doggone they're here!
Dilemmas are binary, but one 'tis nothing
Bury the Lede; Let the moored go free
Leap before you bridge the gap
By the way, if you never asked?
Petals on daisy chain flowers are odd!
Loves me, Loves me not, ...?
A slow twist of an invisible slide
and the hulls again escape,
drop down into the morning haze,
return as gray gulls rising.
The moored boats
slip in and out of the fog
as easily as ocean legends
then come back
painted by a distant sea.
Sinking or flying
the small craft slip through a sky
only as wide as the river,
but when they return
they ship water last seen
in a shipwrecked teacup.
*Image of Flower Purple Orchids by Pixabay.
Dream Makers
fresh
half-castes
tranced set eyes
moored wild sparkles
smooched perianths hues
moon chant ripen charm bud
purplish-lacquered functions
claimed space far and few
*cheat death to thrive
warm broad spots
mauve blooms
dense
*Epiphyte: Plants that grow on another plant but are not parasitic.
2021 August 12
I will be at the cafe
across from the pier
with a coffee
and a buttery croissant.
I have kept a place
for you, a sunlit table
and prepared a view
with small boats moored
in a mirrored calm, birds
wading the shallows
and clouds drifting across
a tinted morning sky.
Too deep in your silence,
I know you will not come
but I shall wait here
on the other side of the page,
words away, yet near