Short Rimmed Poems
Short Rimmed Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rimmed by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rimmed by length and keyword.
why my eyes gritty
red-rimmed and not pretty
conjunctivitis
why my lids slammed shut
what this sticky oozy stuff
conjoin whatitis
Her blue swirl sea green orbs woo,
me, shipwrecked swimming waif with,
that wild tide rush froth-rimmed glance,
I capsize transfixed
drowsy polar bears
yawn in glacial snow-rimmed den…
arctic storm alert
Date posted ; 11th of December 2022
How many syllables verified
first light doodle doo
clarion call red rimmed sun
rooster squawk fade stars
27th April 2020
Sponsor Raul Moreno
Contest Name Morning Praise
It's just one o'clock
On Sunday A.M.
And my thought process
Is getting quite slim
Eyelids are heavy,
Red colored, and rimmed.
Its now one-oh-two
On Sunday A.M.
Whilst the sun slowly sinks
Beneath the snow-capped mountains
Dark-rimmed clouds drift high above
Red-orange skies shroud the sky
V-shaped geese honking afar
Darkness creeps on mirrored lakes
Gold eyes wink as dusk sets in
Beauty of Creation dark.
Genius of the Underworld.
Bats are given wings of gold.
Demon sons, they lie unfurled.
Black is rimmed with diamond lip.
Physical transcends.
And so begins that dark, cool beat -
that once awakened, never ends.
lengthy white scars
along pale arms,
dark circles
beneath swollen
tear rimmed eyes
tight lipped smiles
and never ending thoughts
silent wondering
and screaming insecurities
silent pleas
screaming within
end it all
end it now
end it here
A red-rimmed sun of summer,
of the sweat of the workers,
the salt of their brows.
Shoulders to the grindstone,
the strength of sinew and muscle,
hours of their labors.
The Lord of their lives
and their eternity-
gives them a dreamer's sojourn
in the welcomed moonrise. ~
Gold bedazzled leaves rimmed in crimson
Squirrels, bunnies forage for acorns and berries
Crisp air beckons to don a favorite sweater or fleece
Children lament shorter days and homework soon
Sights, smells, attitudes beckon us
As nature changes her wardrobe
Jeff Eklund
Autumn Colors
8/13/2012
The car was painted mat black
With red rimmed wheels
The windows were tinted
There were no plates
It looked menacing
Even if it was driven
By a girl...
...Who flew the plane
An F-35 Aggressor version
It was like her car
Mat black all over
With red wheel rims
A tinted cockpit
And no markings...
A girl watchmaker stands among clocks rimmed with frost,
their pale faces caught in winter's thin hush.
She watches silence drip from their frozen hands,
each drop a faint crack in the brittle air.
Shadows settle like cold breath around her craft,
while time thins itself beneath her steady gaze.
A weird old woman loved cats
And outlandish broad-rimmed hats
Why should we think it odd
The old dame is quite mod,
Why she even dines with her bats.
written, Winter 1972
edited June 29, 2021
[first published in The Hoosier Challenger, 1972;
republished in By-Line, Summer, 1989]
Rimmed with red,
the sky emerges
from an alcoholic haze,
collapses on the shoulder of a hill.
As thin-lipped
as the letter box,
I brush a broken bottle
from the driveway:
shards of glass
that tinkle on the tarmac,
sharp as laughter
in an empty room.
First published in Bravado, New Zealand
Who told the clouds how to dress today
Soft cotton like and rimmed with lace
Dancing there overhead in grand array
Then sprinting off away in space
They evaporate and then just go away
To reappear again in some disguise
Hold hands to paint a new day’s skies
Then hide beyond where we can’t see
And guess tomorrow where they will be
black-rimmed mirror waits,
holding the calm of spring rain~
old memories rise.
Soft droplets drift down the glass,
touching what the past once held.
Poem created from Poetry Wheel Challenge
Theme: Memory
Emotion: Calm
Color: Black
Season: Spring
Form: Tanka
Object: Mirror
Verb: Rise
Returning to fields rimmed by golden stones
Just there I hear the movements that arise
From August tides lapping; I'm not alone
While rosy daylight cuddles my warm sighs
My hometown blooms again with fine décor
Wildflowers peeping through the lush fairways
As blue-eyed jays trip slowly on the shore
Towards the sand dunes, waking all my days.
slow fading
of a red rimmed glow
candle lit
that held at bay
the cold moonless night
its soft hiss the song
that filled so
my heart with warmth, trust
in which I bathed
while winter held
its eeriest concert
that has reached
its final days ...
but you, my dear
forget me not, as I will not
soft hiss within your heart
Caro's choka
© 03.12.16
Blue velvet blanket mantel dresses
Satin lace trim daintily caresses
On border, golden twine tresses
Azure light-display luminesces
In background, silver candelabra recesses
In foreground, satin Lilies rimmed with lush cresses
Overarching, marble angel with copper harp blesses
Underpinning, tidy Spruce wreath butresses
Footstool, bronze crèche a penitent tone expresses
Brilliant rainbow arced into the sky
Big house in center of the village
A soft light bathed the large room
wedding feast rice strewn about
Greeted with loud handclapping
Fogged gold-rimmed spectacles
Garlands on statues of Buddha
Dancing and singing for Krisna
Bobbins and a spinning wheel
Majestic elephants trunks curled
raising mushrooms of dry dust
I have fashioned my desire from Carpathian obsessions,
Indulging in the calm between extremes.
It’s a blood and iron promise that sets my soul alight,
Embarked upon a pilgrimage of dreams.
Standing on the foredeck in a silent, moonlit trance,
Sipping from a chalice rimmed with stars.
Knowing when I find her, I’ll be three sheets to the wind,
Branded by an irony of scars.
I
can make
a delightful thought
appear upon the liquid crystalline
dispaly. I can make a woman cry and
I can make an enemy bloody; I can make
a place. I can make a holy place in the dirt, a
place rimmed with autumn's cornshucks and cold failures.
And in this meager courtyard, upon this altar I will plant a tree,
a remnant of what good there was. May it furnish us fruit for eternity.
Uncharted Depths
Red rimmed stinging eyes
Compromise this world
All that was
And never dreamed of
In everything I think
All I see and do
Revolves around her
And I live each day
Without her
Mine own love
Has become a torment
Hung in these eyes
Which can only see her
I cannot count the seconds
But an eternity
Without her
This lowest ebb
Of solitude
Still hasn’t hit me yet
I walked in the morning dawn on a lake rimmed path,
When I encountered a light of brilliance unsurpassed,
My knees bend and I fall, grasping a cloth of mystery
Silken, enfolding all of me.
I raise my bowing head to see
Eyes of love, so deep, piercing through me, and
An outstretched strong workman’s hand,
Bid me rise and follow this man.
I am filled with Him, and give Him myself.
My Savior
A million battered steps.
Smiles rimmed with fire and pyrite.
Ninety-proof clarity in the foothills of blissfulness.
Clouded mountains topped with defeats.
It's all in the script, and the author is me.
Nearing the finish, and there it sits.
The greatest wall- icy indifference.
What lies on the other side of this life?
That same pyrite and fiery sea.
It's all in the script, and the author is me.