Short Unheralded Poems
Short Unheralded Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Unheralded by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Unheralded by length and keyword.
I hate this feeling
Disastrous it is
I fall, head first
Into the ground
Shaken I cry
Letting it all out
Displaying a pout
I come to realize
My life is dread
Unheralded heart
Nothing left
I feel honestly dead
I say to all
This is the end
Russell Sivey
Basically
First
they spoke in guarded tones as it arrived
it came unheralded by drama or intensity
filled the corners of the room
permeated all reality and stood apart
in just the silence of its own
it cannot be unknown
it is enough that anyone
may go to number one
~
Love is not heralded
By lightning strike
Or thunders crash
Nor by Mantovanni’s Violins,
A chorus of heavenly voices
Or 21 gun salute
Love is more subtle
Love is stealthy
Love creeps up on you
When least expected
It seeps into open pores
Unnoticed and unheralded
Then spreads like a virus
Until you are defenseless
And you are hooked
And there is no cure
Form:
Sprung buds strung along branches burst into bloom
Unsung, a tad early, unheralded sly petals plume
A spurt and squirt of color to break winter's gloom and doom
Like the dabs of paint squeezed from tubes on brushes abloom
To paint a mantle cloak, donned each Spring, as a many-colored costume
To blot out Winter's chills, before coat is shed in Summer's cauldron spume
Unheralded purple on wings of hush
Stretching to infinity
A rebel erasing lines of sight
On a lark
Of inevitability
What forces have combined
To set this immutable wheel in play?
No haste it knows
Yet its advance is constant
As the day and evening goes
It measures progress in shades of gray
‘Til one last gasp
And we are plunged to sightless depths
Tottering, blind, and dumb
While the madman laughs
Listen to poem:
Bemoan the songs unsung for want of melody and tongue.
Bewail the sorrows unlamented and veiled, for want of a good sob.
Waffling silent tunes echoing and rattling in the cage, trapped unexpressed.
We humans can only hear the flaps and rustles of the unsung,
which roost like bats inverted, upended in trees unheard, cloaked, silent.
The unsung lie on the ground, unheralded, unapplauded, unlauded, quiet,
never played out.
Joy is not a package deal
With smiles, screams of mirth,
It comes when the simplest things
Suddenly gives joy a birth.
Meeting an old friend
Could give you ecstasy,
Seeing the caller; as the one
That once captured your fantasy.
Seeing your pet in the house
Whom you missed when away,
Having a glass of chilled beer
On a hot summer’s day.
Joy comes without fanfare
Unheralded and promptly
It is that moment when
You begin to feel jolly.