Short Shrills Poems
Short Shrills Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Shrills by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Shrills by length and keyword.
bold and beautiful
with loud shrills raising its crest
blue jay fights defends
Fourth Place: Tania Kitchen Contest-1/22/21
On my awaking,
March's bright sun begins to rise...
dazing the blue sea,
to let the shrills of seagulls
cheer up the dreariest shore.
shrills of a blue jay
chasing squirrels from feeders —
robbing me of sleep
May 10, 2020
for Tania Kitchin's Haiku - Blue Jay Poetry Contest
moonlit autumn night
shrills echo from the treetops ~
a great horned owl prowls
10/16/2021
Contest: Owl Haiku Contest
Sponsor: Robert James Liguori
smart blue jay shrills sharp
cautiously weaving safe nest...
hidden acorns sprout
January 18, 2021
Syllable count : 5/7/5 (howmanysyllables.com)
Contest : A Cardinal, Blue Jay, Or Chickadee Haiku
Sponsor : Tania Kitchin
A barber who let her hair down at work
bared her inattention in sudden jerk,
carrying the pair that clips
down she drops on where it pricks,
ejecting shrills I show her all my irk.
10-Jan-2019
Limerick II Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
On a night poured by gush of words
Roasted lips flame with charred ash
Shrills exploding like molten rods---
Until winds play a dulcet tune
In a time of ripped anguish,
Healing fervent breath of affection,
Unrequited.
For Brian Strand
Set goals, time for moving forward.
Out of the comford zone! Release!
Zoom in, accelerate towards
Your goal. Not professional, please.
Goals are related. Use you skills
To your advantage and learn new
Things. Your dream life would give you shrills.
Partner candidates? “Yes, a few”.
night sounds awaken
as eerily shrills echo~
ominous mantra
plumed wings cast shadows
reflecting in the moonlight~
twilight prey tango
birds hidden in nests
quietly guarding fledglings ~
nocturnal mission
a night heron squawks
while motionless in the marsh~
still fishing pursuit
And all these voices
They sing along in my head
I hear their shrills
And I hear their screams
They cry out for help
They ask like beggars
But they've come to the wrong place
For there is no triumph to be found in here
There is only a pile of cries
And a pile of lies
And a pile of hopeless loves
Waiting to be spared
Flying mountains
Breaking down the hills
Oh! I can hear some shrills
Dry are the flowing fountains.
Our passion for survival
Good are what I foresee
Could it be a false see
Our last resort is revival.
We can bear no more
These pains and perpetual mourn
We hope for a new morn
For the sun our frozen lives thaw
la lumière dans tes yeux respire la beauté
so elegant the cygnet glides
a glass top glint speaking out
a call to day, here shadows lay
in the depths of a morning glow
and as rich pine treetops sway
the thrill of a nightingale shrills
beauty still rests before my eye
absorbed, my passions beat
attracted to a scent of yearn
inhaled, with her bosom held
Her belly's smooth
As it is sweet
Traversing it's curves
As if they were streets
I get the green light
Down Belly Button Way
Go left or go right
On Satin Thighways
Approaching the merge
I swerve toward the left
She's right on the verge
My hand at her cleft
She wiggles and squirms
Then shrills with delight
I hold the wheel firm
And drive through the night
it begins at dawn a tweet tweet then a beep beep~ a crow caws loudly
tiny little chirps
twitters silly shrills whistles ~
hel looo hel looo trill
and then, begins the circled flight in the sky
swooping as one, turning, diving- little birds fly
then, a pair of gliding birds gracefully dip and soar
oh, such divine and sublime sounds from tiny birds pour
Along verdant hills , May crowns daffodils,
Where floral glow thrills as evening moon fills
The scent of air’s chills while robin blue shrills
A music that instills waves from grass on mills.
Petals dressed in frills reel like yellow quills
And laced mist distills…flaunting nature’s skills!
..............
John Hamilton's Contest
Rhymers delight-internal monorhyme-2
4/30/2017
Big Ben’s Bell Rings Out
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom,
Boom
Happy New Year - it's now 2008 and fireworks are lighting the sky in London
A spectra of colour lights the night sky in fountains and sprays
It looks like Disney Land, purple, pink, red, yellow, blue
Shining faces watching
Whistles and shrills
Awe and happiness
The Big Ben and the wheel both booming
boom, boom, bang, boom!
Waking from the fairyland,
dreams with wings, was that
your voice my voice.
Walking on sand barefoot
hand in hand...
Warmth in the memories light.
Alarm shrills welcome back
into the darkness.
Life's aroma ever stinging
my nostrils with its
flavorous existence.
Pen is still.
Wiping dream clouds
from my eyes,
shot of force to empty
thoughts.
Another day pen is still.
Words with wings
I catch the flight with
pen.
Out of comatose depths I awaken
Spirit, body, mind and soul
Wake up! I hear. My dreams are taken
Body’s arousal no control
Wake up! Wake up! Her voice shrills through me
Stimulating tumults of annoyance
I awaken in awe of the beauty before me
Disturbing my inner depth’s response
As I come round from realms much higher
She leans over me and stroking my skin
Evokes in me strong sexual desire
No use when hospital bed I’m in!
Threadbare eyes hold long the night
secrets trip past most scathing blight
dual is the dark last to be unearthed
mirrored the lens a mind disturbed
Hark, the shrills prepare the abyss
left back to carry on a burden amiss
with the wind let the trembles lie
still where cherry blossoms die
Threadbare eyes hold long the night
sense forth dawn and hope of light
where tender tales are told of you
beneath most daunting shards of blue
dawn lays its head sleeping as moonlight prevails over copper glory
autumn arrives - sapphire clouds eyes mist as water puddles flood their feet
storms shrills echo walls gliding leaves crispy amber pain upon grey mind
the ballerina breeze dancing with golden moths in fierce pirouette
weary birds survey violet air wrath - blowing bare innocent trees
bronze weeds wave gleefully from verdant fields - rich flowers slump olive soil
as swallows land and swifts take flight
inside late noon’s last shards of light
the chill winds that descend on day
cause dense green swathes of reeds to sway
across the flooded vista’s ground
in harmony with nature’s sound
of shrills that echo through the air
from birds and insects everywhere
while stars with room to breathe and shine
light up a land divorced from time
to show the beauty and true worth
of life in balance here on earth.
My insides are tight, they’re slimy and black
He’s back.
The anaconda.
He squeezes my insides and I can’t breathe,
He won’t leave.
I can’t sleep, or I’ll dream of his body
While he roams my gut, up to my lungs,
Grabbing my ribs and swinging from the rungs
And then squeezes around my throat
Takes time to gloat
Before he hisses words into my head…
Words that can render me dead.
He lingers, he slithers, he kills..
He’s back;
And no one’s there to hear my shrills.