Short Rough Water Poems
Short Rough Water Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rough Water by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rough Water by length and keyword.
Hard, cold, rain
Attacking
Bayman's resolve
Bushels to fill
Long day ahead
Rough water
Fewer clams
Lower prices
Longer hours
Throbbing muscles
Ice forming
Season ending
Boat for sale
Have the courage
To put your heart into everything
Make great usage of opportunity
As you embark on your journey
You may face rough water
But, just keep pushing yourself
When necessary, adjust those sails
So you can prevail
L-ife is like a sea,
Y-ou can sense the silence;
N-ever can you hear the sound, because of the gentle winds.
M-an's life is like a sea,
A-n ocean of rough water;
R-ugged rain from above
I-s caused by vile weather.
N-o matter what the clime is,
A-pril twenty-second shows glee;
Y-ou have a lovely birthday, life is like a sea.
The wind chime is singing to me
From the breeze I feel and can’t see
My mind drifts with the melody
To a peaceful place, I must be
To calm my soul, rough water days
With rhythm of chime that plays
I can only do so much now
With all the work I’ve done somehow
And as this wind chime plays today,
I hope the song will come your way
Heidi Sands
9/21/21
hunting and circling for prey
the moonlight reflects ~
wispy winged moving shadows
loud screeches echo
winds howl as tree leaves rustle ~
rough water dances in tune
an eagle soars in circles
dive bombs into rough water ~
proud prey prize displayed
12/14/22
Contest: Triple New CharlieKu Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Charlies Messina
(757 577 775, Syllables checked with howmanysyllables)
River flowing down my lane of life,
rough waters, smooth sailing,
never know which river I'll see.
Clouds above my head covering me,
storm clouds now over my life,
coming to water fall dropping so far.
Shore coming to me gladly,
will leave this old river of life,
and stand on solid ground for now.
Will sail once again someday,
when am ready to deal with
rough water of life.
wrote 5-24-07
Placid surface
looking glass
still water
Silence but for the cries of ducks
silverfish
minuscule reflections
of an almighty orb
casting its omnipresent being
onto rippling water
Undulations
varying patterns
splintering the smoothness
heartbeats of water
Boatman
ferryman -
a carrier of souls
across Styx
deep water
A pathway to netherworlds
rough water
Copyright Deon J.H. Burger 2014
It seems that life is a series of waves
And I a surfer untried
Some waves are huge, some are small
Some I take in stride
Then one knocks me down and a pattern emerges
Too many times, I’ve been struck by the surges
Finding my balance to get up again
Takes longer and longer for me and then
It’s on to the next, when can I rest
When will I make it to shore
As I’ve gotten older, one thing I know is
There’s more rough water in store
What a title as you can see
to pen the words that sets man free.
What do I grasp that could be
the setting of those for me?
To loose the bundle for words to flow
and get tangled in the colorful bow.
The feel of freedom is near I know.
Untitled is changing, the sails let go.
Rough water is swift, the wording is wet.
Untitled is drying while you get set
to fill the bucket with words that let
the pen flow to carry man's debt...
Holding our daughter
a smile finds my lips.
Yet, in rough water
that anchor soon slips.
Dreams drifted off course
when truth was beset.
And filled with remorse,
love turned to regret.
I recall your kiss,
and my spirit soars.
For my lips still miss
the sweet taste of yours.
In a sea of tears
love drowns in sorrow.
And reaffirms fears
there's no tomorrow.
Yesterday's pain inks
the waters of hope.
And my spirit sinks,
unable to cope.
Who is He coming out of the water,
The day God spoke from above,
Saying this is my beloved Son.
Who is He making good wine from water,
In Cana of Galilee,
Showing God’s miraculous power.
Who is He walking upon the water,
Declaring to the seekers,
He is the Master of all nature.
Who is He calming angry rough water,
Revealing to the brethren,
That He is the Holy Comforter.
Who is He, who can this be,
None other than Christ Jesus,
O, it is He; it is He.
The river is smooth, quiet, and serene.
Our fishing boat is at one with the flow.
Years from now I'll remember this scene
And wish it were like the life I would know.
But that isn't the nature of this estate.
Boulders may bludgeon at every turn.
Debilitating illness may strike early or late.
Rough water tells me I am here to learn.
Problems then are mortality's tool
To form and fashion the person to be.
They take us to the hard-knocks school
To prepare us for life's squally sea.