Short Ravines Poems
Short Ravines Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ravines by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ravines by length and keyword.
Lines.
Vascular, photosynthetic ravines,
Cut deeply into the skin;
They morph from scar into the heart's sustenance.
Supporting bridges over ravines
or gap-toothed kings and queens
abutments may be improperly named
BUT they’re effective all the same
Our lives changed
in falling in the ravines of time,
rising on our own strengthened wings like eagles
to do our own work
Need I say anything else?
FOG LIKE PHANTOM STREAMS
misty beauty, white ravines
make mornings meaningful
Acacia arboretum hold fast
At the breaking before breakfast
The new day, old friends, egrets
Raindrops began falling,
rumbles of thunder roared,
ravines became deep chasms !
Reckless drivers in cars,
refuge anywhere found,
recovery of dead . . .
Remembrance and candles.
Across blue canopy dwelling, eagle flying,
great heights igniting; just keenly lofting,
momentarily navigating over plush quaint ravines,
swooping trees; unearthed valleys with xeric yielding zeal.
Copyright © 2010 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Bloody ravines
Crimson greens
Tumultuous skies
Vacuous eyes
Raucous jubilation
Sonorous ululation
Acrid slanders
Audacious satires
Languid apologies
Acrimonious envies
Man can shrug or guffaw
Makes Gods drop their jaws.
Written 05/07/2016
It is not possible
refuse to die
or to live...!
live in leaps
and ravines, is a way
of living too...
not even death
give us rest
in life...
Death does not release us
from life...
the opposite is true
equally... !
Death is the mother of life,
life is spawn of death...
Divine plan!
The sun rises in a watermelon sky
Green leaves welcome the newborn light
shivering in the crisp air
Watercolor wings amid the blooming blossoms
flutter in the breeze
The verdant high hills and gentle ravines
awaken to the Meadowlark’s chorus in Nature's melody
Bite Size Poem no48 Poetry Contest
Over streams
or above deep ravines,
they cling to the earth that supports them.
Having borne years of burdens, their bones are cracking;
the splintery skin of their once-strong arms now rots.
Threatened by footsteps - though few - they groan. . . .
for time is deserting
old bridges.
(Not in a contest,at least for now.)
Herded humans
Sweltering trains
Dead cargo
Suffering remains
Gunshot glory
Spurting spite
Guarded genocide
Barbwire lights
Warsaw widows
Stripped of food
Numbered days
Ribs that protrude
Anesthetized surgeons
Screaming knife
Smoldering smokestacks
Vacating life
Conveyor belt corpses
Rolling into ravines
Six million taken
Will no one intervene
Banished by Zeus’s jealous wife, Hera,
the lively Oread, Echo,
began to wander haplessly
into the mountain ranges
The depths of dark abysses
The doleful tunnels and
The abandoned mines,
The desolate caves,
valleys and ravines.
Lovelorn and pining
for her lost love, Narcissus,
the once loquacious Echo
could now recall only
the last shreds of
someone else's spoken words.
On rolling hills and deep ravines,
thunder quakes and treetops lean.
Raindrops fall upon the ground,
softly weeping without a sound.
The wings of the Humming bird sing,
quickly drinking all that sweetness brings.
Acorns swing within their trees,
winds whipping to set them free.
Little squirrels digging deep,
seeking a long hidden treat.
Mother Nature sends her call,
when upon nature the storm falls.
That bushy tail of yours, Mr. Squirrel
it's kind of cute, the way it curls
High on a wire, it swings back and forth
either east and west, or south and north
On a tall tree's nut-hunting route
you use it like a parachute
And I've seen your tail shake and shiver
when you spot a 'babe' who makes you quiver
I'm not quite sure what all this means
but it serves you well in woods and ravines
First encounter was skimpy
unleashing a terror
of tales. I will not find the
perfect body of a poem.
Remember,
the salt lake, where you were
drowned one day in the eyes
of the needle.
It was an ode for the failed
prophecy which predicted
the fall of an author
in the ravines of jealousy.
A trampled butterfly exudes
the yellow fumes. Meanwhile
you can draw a nude on
the road for bystanders.
Satish Verma
The croissants of buttered hills
glisten in the searing marmalade
of August's arid oven.
September's cinnamon swirl
scorches muffin-colored homes,
the flames smothered
as October rains
send lives and mud
sliding into the ravines
like apple butter.
On Thanksgiving morning
survivors eat fall's charred breakfast,
then praise God in church.
In the milk of spring
they rebuild,
just like the last time
and the time before that.
What are mountains
But opportunities
To climb and conquer
Our fears
Of achieving
Our own
Magnificent potential
Overcoming the pitfalls
And crevasses
Loose boulders
Ravines and gorges
Dense thickets and forests
Or even bone-chilling snow
Pumping adrenaline
For a magnificent
View at the top
And the exhilaration
Of thumping our chests
With pride
To scream into the wind
“I DID IT!”
~12 Jul 2016~
Have you ever cut a tree down
and counted its rings?
Or maybe traced the rugged ravines
in its bark?
Trees are so open,
their history for everyone to see.
The rings show its years,
so do scars.
If you trace the rugged bark,
would you too trace the rugged, engraved skin?
Could you understand that
a history is shown?
A dark, somber history,
with stories told only by the number of rings,
or rugged ravines like the bark of a tree.
Fire lets there be light in the wintry ravines
that hide between mountains of nickel and iron.
Illuminated by spouts of trickling light,
you tickle my eyes and rinse my sight in delight.
Adamantine beauty shorn from the earth's belly.
Tempting fingers, enticing tongues.
I touch you for a second and you release
invisible frost that dances then dissolves
upon my palm from which a trillion tongues
emerge to taste your transfixed light.
Most delicate
tragedy
Far from ravines
Sea knows me
Air scents
Lupines of love
grow in the half light
Unfolding their
sapphire wings
Learning to fly
again
pearlescent dew
anoints this dawn
I am waiting
for the refrain
of rain
spindles weave
axis of sky
around
gentle hills
breathing
in motion
reflecting
pearlescent
painted
ocean
The mind is an universe of majestic splendour
The mind is an amazing, unfathomable wonder
The mind is a wondrous refuge, a perfect haven
The mind is a sanctuary, a gateway to heaven.
The mind is a boundless, priceless treasure
The mind is a source of infinite pleasure
The mind is an origin of thoughts and attitudes
The mind is a display of mercurial moods.
Now rising, now sailing, now soaring on wings
Now descending, now plunging into deep, dark ravines.
Lofty mountains chilled winds, ravines below,
Hotel, fountains and lanes covered with snow
I wanted to shout loud to every peak,
What would I give if I could hear you speak?
My lonely cry, Come see, Come back to me.
The mountain peaks replied, "to me, come see."
Avalanche fell down on frozen rivers,
That was her reply that brought me shivers.
Fool! What could I expect from her essence?
Let her enjoy peaceful iridescence.
8/2/2021
Placed 1
Arrive with me in untainted
light. Between two threats:
life and death. Falling from
mantle, there was no surrender.
Bone-deep, I will ask you a
question. What life has given
to you and what death
has taken from you ?
Read more in my eyes. You will
find the ravines of hunger. For
truth. No organic pain. Only thirst.
For a very violent rush of rains.
Ink-stained moon was willing
to cede the moonlight, even dew
to wipe out the nightmares of
your scrapped ego.
Satish Verma
The blue shaded mountain of strength
Rises bold and protective into the sky
Casts secrets in the ravines of slopes
Where trails weave mysterious stories
The lake is frozen, covered all white
With ice secured beneath its cover
Until cleared, for someone to skate
The gray, bare trees stand like soldiers
So still on guard at the edge of time
Who may come and be lost to be found?
Like the few scattered leaves left laying
On top of the frozen snow
Heidi Sands
2/8/21