Short Succour Poems
Short Succour Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Succour by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Succour by length and keyword.
Haiku-like poem
Only the raven
Sits on the branches
Of a dead tree
Bark falls off
Porous and rotten
Exposing dry wood
Skeletal branches
Seeking succour
Forsaken by god
Thunderstorm
Lightning strikes
Pyre and ashes
Angst acutely augmented all crowding
Aligned to semisubmersible state
Safely seeking solitary succour
Propitious perfect proposal provokes
Reckoned rated Racoon River Retreat
Lay luxuriating lodge location
So surrounded, solitude saturates
4/1/21
Ángel tears fall down
To shine as raindrops on leaves
Sprinkles down with breeze
Creates stream to succour life
Nature's pleasant lullaby
24/02/2019
In a coiling maze
mortars fume.
Crimson cadavers
dye the verdant soil.
Poison spears plunge
craters into young flesh.
Scattered moans rise
into the sorrowing air
of deafened canons
and carbon.
No succour or welcome
for the maimed.
Only ghosts
of peace.
A suppurating crater
festers and gapes
in my heart
desiccated by hordes
of plunderers
who gorge on marrow
enshrouded in crevices
where love pleads
for refuge and succour
before gelid goons
controlling a pedigree
of sycophants
reframed to shield
their masters
from imagined devilry.
Looking for one to give
Succour to a broken heart,
So that pain can leave,
Sadness and jealousy set apart.
For love above I cry,
To correct mistakes of past,
Which makes tears go dry ,
And betrayal not to last .
Trust and honesty so strong,
While selfishness will be wrong.
12-28-2017
Lionise longing love,
Sprawling supercilious stuff,
Crystalline compatible craving,
Romantic rapturous revealing,
Inevitable intrepid iridescent,
Memorable mystic magnificent,
Vibrant vivacious vitiates,
Salubrious succour speculates !
Written on 5/7/14
Sponsor- Dr Ram Mehta
Contest- Alliteration
The past brought sadness which travelstravels
faster than the breeze and wind,
But this present sunrise brings succour
that brightens the face and sky,
creating fountain of love and emotions,
Erupting into passion that can't be hidden,
Hope this bright light continues to linger,
As this shines intensely through your eyes.
10-26-17
I meander verdant valley
where meadows collide in windswept jade
Gentle hillsides bathe in succour sunrise
and oceans of clouds saunter
provoking moor land peaks
Seems so perfect here
timeless as the morning blends
to the dawn chorus
of nature’s own harmony
this in days of summer wine
Beyond the bustle
of everyday torment
a life that is shared.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
When shall this darkness yield to the sun's light?
When shall my eyes see the day dry and bright?
My heart is drowning in a sea of fright
Where I paddle but no end is in sight.
Grant me succour,Oh! Spirits full of might,
Grant me strength to paddle and row aright,
Lend a helping hand in this lonely fight
To conquer, prevail and embrace delight
As beams of light overwhelm this dark night.
Listen to poem:
Prefer The R Ending
Per
prefer
fine liqueur
would best defer
splendid connoisseur
for your bottle, monsieur
savor worthy, need succour
possess sparse palate, amateur
grand restaurateur entrepreneur
***monsieur; a title or form of address used of or to a French-speaking man, corresponding to Mr. or sir.
2019 November 07
*1st Place*
Rhyming Nonet
~~charles messina
Which one can muster?
now?
lines
red, blue, black ... in colours
oblivions?
always same
metamorphosis
like a shepherd of one sheep
who has colours
to brush it to consternation
if out of one thousand
brushes
a light to be absorbed
may be only forty six and seven
or indigo
poets are scarce today
because nothing succour
is honey here
safe perhaps, locomotions
twisted how?.
A momentous timing on this day to the hour
Expectant mother delivers her little flower
Safely born babe is now weighed and sized
All high hopes are thankfully realised
On opening the new-born's eyes to mother's face
Such a joyous recognising shall now take place
Thus happy mother and baby, in bonds, they meet
As establishing succour is a two way street
Baby remembers mother's voice a muffled sound
So nestling in comforting arms home is found.
The frozen male gamete is injected into the
bovine beast of burden and succour.
Months later, through the miracle of mitosis, a
juicy cut of prime passes through the birth canal, both
beautiful and bloody.
Steadfast child of some eastern divinity, I have faith that this creature was born
to meet his end on some surgical-steel golgotha,
and nourish me as bits and pieces cut and portioned on my dixie plate!
-note-
I am not a vegetarian.
Form:
I thirst for your sweet mystery,
so drunk with love am I,
my lips are parch'd, 'til you bestowest
balm, can I deny
the boon that cometh from your lips,
a taste of heaven's joy,
so sweetly doth your soul impart,
as I my skill employ
to succour and to satisfy
a gift so freely given;
your fragance full delights my sense,
my heart is wildly driven.
Your scent is heady, nay divine,
my soul can scarce withstand
the beauty of your simple grace,
the softness of your hand.
I thirst for your sweet mystery,
so drunk on love am I,
my mouth is parch'd, 'til you bestowest
balm, can I deny
the boon that cometh from your lips,
a taste of heaven's joy,
so sweetly doth your soul impart,
as I my skill employ
to succour and to satisfy
a gift so freely given;
your fragance full delights my sense,
my heart is wildly driven.
Your scent is heady, nay divine,
my soul can scarce withstand
the beauty of your simple grace,
the softness of your hand.
I thirst for your sweet mystery,
so drunk on love am I,
my mouth is parch'd, 'til you bestowest
balm, can I deny
the boon that cometh from your lips,
a taste of heaven's joy,
so sweetly doth your soul impart,
as I my skill employ
to succour and to satisfy
a gift so freely given;
your fragance full delights my sense,
my heart is wildly driven.
Your scent is heady, nay divine,
my soul can scarce withstand
the beauty of your simple grace,
the softness of your hand.
I thirst for your sweet mystery,
so drunk on love am I,
my mouth is parch'd, 'til you bestowest
balm, can I deny
the boon that cometh from your lips,
a taste of heaven's joy,
so sweetly doth your soul impart,
as I my skill employ
to succour and to satisfy
a gift so freely given;
your fragance full delights my sense,
my heart is wildly driven.
Your scent is heady, nay divine,
my soul can scarce withstand
the beauty of your simple grace,
the softness of your hand.