Short Rueful Poems
Short Rueful Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rueful by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rueful by length and keyword.
Woeful
Rueful
Joyful
Hopeful
Though he looked so woeful, rueful, pained
his music was joyful, hopeful, famed.
Composed 05/03/2017.
2, 2, 2, 2, 9, 9.
Mine is a wild spring step,
shoe heels dash leaf strewn path,
wrinkled drivers sour mien,
from rueful rush hour toll,
as sluggish cars inch by,
my drained feet moult traction
forlorn
woebegone
in
pensive
musing
this
yearning
this
longing
melancholy
becomes
a
rueful
pining
almost
nostalgic
contemplation
Mine is a wild spring step,
shoe heels dash leaf strewn path,
I spy wrinkled driver’s,
rueful rush hour grim mien,
from sleek chrome cars crawl as,
my drained feet moult traction!
Hazel mirrors glisten
In pages of tribulation
Taciturn apparitions moan
Designing rueful brands of sin
Upon the shaken sands she weaves
As she is forsaken
To drink of harrowing memories
He Followed Her Tail
and there he was flying her like a kite
onto her blue skies with all his sleight
his face's a rueful glow
he dips her high and low
pulls her chords and watches her flight
connie pachecho
7/27/17
Low and lonely, but not to succumb
Through warring thoughts a pitfall deep
Ireful, rueful, contort
This speaker’s blunder deemed
Subdued with met solution
Devil’s plot decayed
Ruinous intent aborted
Blithe courage keenly resumed
In Memory of a Former Fellow*
Impressed forever on my rueful heart
By your virtues' sublime and blessèd art,
You will remain and live on in my mind
Till doomsday even after I depart.
2.15.2021
* Ebrahim Edalat-Pishè
No comments, please!
There was a calm to the sadness
rueful rustlings of passing leaves
paying homage to listless limbs.
A feral-cat-like silence stalking
warily watching the wind
smooth away life’s traces.
Doves cooing in a tower
overseeing a sunset’s tears
promising a too late peace.
John G. Lawless
©1/4/2019
An escapade from thought parades
A blockade of rouge descent
An oeillade craved
Rueful indignance
A room full of insects
A jocose allusion
A lissome illusion
A querulous reality
I weep where you can't see
Streams of dreams
Melt slowly, spring snowman
Abhorrent print
Why can't I just speak casually
My rueful spirit was gowned in a silken shroud of white.
Was there no chance my penitent cries had been heard?
I searched his pensive eyes for the palest glimpse of light,
then he wiped my tears away. His heart had been stirred.
Four line poetry contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Posted: July 27, 2020
Eyes of confidence
Naïve and hardened
Advancing on the battlefield
Eyes of anguish
Discovering the horror
Spent upon the blood of war
Eyes of hope
Peace in reprieve
Hold fast to victory’s color
Eyes of benevolence
Engulfed within anguish
Rueful to the melee’s victims
Eyes of regret
A human understanding
Shoveling over another grave
Who shall tame for me
Times swift-footed dash
Into nostalgia-filled realms;
Future-past regretful clash?
Waging war upon my span
Leaves me with a tearful shell
Of the once-nectarous stretch
Of days unmarred by baleful spell.
And time’s fleet-footed sprint
Into oblivions sad and rueful
Still paints such a dull picture
Of prospects dim and doleful.
What did I ever do,
to deserve the blessing
of finding you?
I have done some rueful deeds,
brought the lowly,
to their knees,
so why still,
the honey, to the bees?
Memories of the past,
no need to trace,
It's here, in my eye's,
It's etched
on my face.
And yet,
I've found a door
never opened before,
feel so, so vunerable,
a sense, not known before.
Short Verse On Stupidity
By: Tom
3/17/2020
“Stupidity won’t kill you but it can make you sweat,”
stupid things in our past are unchangeable of course.
Looking hinder at our lives oft bring thoughts of regret,
over rueful matters hiding there we've no recourse.
“I am patient with stupidity,
but not with those who are proud of it.”
Edith Sitwell
You and I
Are here and gone
In the breath of a lie
In the space of a song
Overturned and reversed
By the force of a spell
In the lull of a curse
In the toll of a bell
Instantly changed
Sown or dispersed
Our souls rearranged
In a rueful dirge
You and I in the rain
Without eye or limb
Dislodged and deranged
We move like the wind
Written by © Raven Drake
The only
lesson
I have learned
is that
everything
was meant
to burn .
Leaving in
it’s ashes
the repeating
rueful record
that’s
always stuck
on one track.
Puttering
out those
once persistent
fervent feelings .
Which makes you
yearn for her
in your
arms again.
But love is just
Like a record .
When it’s broken you can never
truly get it back
to what it once was.
Frostbitten winds cut my cheek, the same place pecked
Gently by your chapped lips.
Paradise is lost in ideas of youthful naivety – hopes, miracles
All simply dreamt before time’s continuity.
Acceptance of a possible worse truth told –
I can’t hold hope in promise, not any longer. . .
Humming softly in broken shards of rueful, indelible pasts,
I welcome the unending abyss – engulfed.
Yet alive.
I liberated each letter from your body, poetry
Just to ask you to take me to my motherland.
No one is waiting though; nothing left there
God will shower His mercy to my precious sand.
Darkness is only the absence of light. I am not Rueful.
Felt concerned about your carved face on stone. Fateful.
I know not your mind poetry; I know not your precious soul
All I see is a tranquil peace in darkness.The innermost earnest call.
The tight-rope of salvation
Is a straining, wire-taut strand
You inch along on foot-chafed trepidation
Defying Satan’s law of gravitation,
God’s balance-pole inside your hand.
Below, the audience is cheering,
Your equipoise of faith precludes all fearing—
Your toes assert their knowing, nimble grasp.
The platform, once so far, now’s nearing.
Step upon it! Crowd gives out a gasp—
Satan curses with a hoarse and rueful rasp.
The tight-rope of salvation
Is a straining, wire-taut strand
You inch along on foot-chafed trepidation
Defying Satan’s law of gravitation,
God’s balance-pole inside your hand.
Below, the audience is cheering,
Your equipoise of faith precludes all fearing—
Your toes assert their knowing, nimble grasp.
The platform, once so far, now’s nearing.
Step upon it! Crowd gives out a gasp—
Satan curses with a hoarse and rueful rasp.
The tight-rope of salvation
Is a straining, wire-taut strand
You inch along on foot-chafed trepidation
Defying Satan’s law of gravitation,
God’s balance-pole inside your hand.
Below, the audience is cheering,
Your equipoise of faith precludes all fearing—
Your toes assert their knowing, nimble grasp.
The platform, once so far, now’s nearing.
Step upon it! Crowd gives out a gasp—
Satan curses with a hoarse and rueful rasp.
I still remember that October day
how the wind swept leaves away.
The noon sun glorified raven hair
how it flowed how I had to stare.
Painful memories refusing to die
for many years I wondered why.
Why cruel winter rueful and gray
bleak and pitiless stole you away.
Yet constant as the crescent moon
remembrances of love are strewn.
Forever I think on an October day
how the wind swept leaves away.
(click on the pic to preview my poetry book!)
Occasionally I look at time departed,
And nearly always with a rueful eye.
Calling back days of steps uncharted,
Traipsing through days, querying why?
Times that found my heart hardened,
Ahead of God setting my domain afire.
Prior to my psyche becoming burdened,
I was merely a sinner reposed in mire.
But something happened in my life,
On the far side of minds forgetting.
Cancer and the Master Surgeon's knife,
Tutored me about another blood letting.
Lately, nothing seems to be going right.
Sorrow spills from my heart every night.
Try as I might, I simply fail to understand
why my tears gather like grains of sand.
I'm hanging on for dear life, but how I miss
the love we shared. I've fallen into an abyss,
and in the distance I watch the sun as it sets,
filled with forlorn emotions and rueful regrets.
I've lost my verve for living and paying the price
for listening to my sad heart's quixotic advice.