Short Walkways Poems
Short Walkways Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Walkways by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Walkways by length and keyword.
Her warm-eyed glow, how the more
Inviting, love-starved, dined on.
Romantic night cafe's.
From where my own, streets apart
And yearly distant, mists up.
Lights, lamped, lone walkways.
a zee
bra yuppie
crossing x-tends
desired walkways
enhancing valued
futures underlying
gainfully tried
honorable sacrifices
involving resources
jockied quickly
knowing people
leach ones
money nicely
stan sand
Chromatic echoes across the walkways;
lamplight casts its hues amid the leaves
revealing the laughter of its spectrum.
Walking together amid the cooling raindrops,
ecstatic vibrance lifts the spirit;
showering respite.
obviously
cosmopolitan,
our new neighbors
sparkle
in their fashion,
frills, tones and bones,
and their
shampooed dogs,
vain about their pedigree,
deface our
freshly-painted walls,
foul our fragrant walkways,
loiter
around , litter our alleys,
with cosmopolite impunity.
These walkways cutting deep through lush fields under a gloomy sky,
Oh, I fear would lead me down a path to this Melancholy Moon,
So I'll wait till the rise of a new sun to show me the way!
~Contest: Sijo
~Sponsor: William Kekaula
"Glorious Sijo Fields" contest by Andrea Dietrich.
The undergarments rustled with sound nearby
Yellowed and stained from the year gone by
Beginning final travel
Drifting in the wind
Outlines left on walkways and cement
Changing canopies reducing shade
Raked piles
Smells of fall
As the undergarments rustled nearby
Beware of walkways that are not clear.
Pedestrians must be warned of danger here.
When the snow has frozen into ice,
jagged and distorted, the paths are not nice.
If energy and courtesy can be found,
shovel the snow away for neighbors all around.
inspired by another member's poem
Haiku Three Verse Poem©
Avalon Hurricane Snowstorm
Twas nice to see folks
Of St. John’s, Mount Pearl, surrounds
Turn a hurricane
Snowstorm into a
Snow clearing activity
For everybody.
Shutins, fire hydrants,
Vehicles, drive and walkways
Were all cleared with cheer.
W.C.Hull © 2020-H1059-2170-I45-K45-3-L45-14
Autumn fire
Veils of orange and red
camouflage in season,
Quenched intense heat
in chills set to quiver,
yellow leaves turn crisp,
swing and dive,
Aroma of Liberty
taking them to roads,
Rugs on walkways,
splendid arras,
Embers set ablaze,
embrace the Autumn fire !
Written Oct 26th, 2016
Sponsor- Mystic rose
acorns and leaves
make up his mind too
as foliage entwines ours
like bridges,
like walkways,
camouflaged in an
every-day of solitude;
these berries may not last;
his thought runs deeper
- deities of the core,
the spirits would say -
to old log fires
by weathered stone,
you, his old flame, share
but only when you think
we're thirsty, that is
A meadow of roses...awash in colors, from pale pink to deepest crimson,
lavender, pale yellow tinged in pink, to coral, silver and bronze.
With brick walkways that capture dappled sunlight, and are rinsed with rain.
Perfumed air of roses, in morning's mist, casting a spell of enchantment.
May 1, 2023
for "Rose Meadow Poetry Contest"
by Julia Ward
God is like the days of spring,
Blossoming like a beautiful red rose,
Friends stopping by to say hello,
The sunshine fills us with warmth and happiness,
Trees stand tall and blossom slowly,
The buds can be seen,
The walkways could be seen filled with god's friends,
The air smells fresh and clean,
Tulips and forget-me-nots bloom,
The spring walk a pleasure to hold.
author : Gwen von Erlach Schutz
Dreamy days of summer, violet petals on the wind,
Apple green forest music, too bad it will soon end,
Petals cover wild walkways, summer's just leaving,
Trees are weeping beauty, summer is just grieving.
Tangelo sun is arising, full of destiny and purpose,
Like fading seasons, always managing to resurface.
Sunlit carpet of petals, late in a pretty garden year,
Like puffy clouds, always going, until others appear.
for gary moore...
...ain't nothing but the blues
talkin' sweltering licks
screaming through flaming hues
reaching deep, deep into that wandering soul
of devilish chords on those walkways of paris
strutting and strumming, never taking a mere stroll
so though your time here and now may be up
and though your moments here and now may be through
forgive me for borrowing your words again
cos' we still got the blues for you...
Form:
Mother of Turquoise magic, rules Halloween
in valleys, meadows, alleys, walkways and places unseen
She is not often spotted, because she is truly shy
If you get a glimpse of this beauty, you also might die
She is a powerful sorceress, she has tricks up and down
Magical from her head to her knees, even her gown
Turquoise is her secret, she manipulates it to cast huge spells
She hides out in the land where the wild cat dwells
Rumbling and tumbling in the kitchen
Dishes cups and a chalice, swishing
Adding some wine
The dog’s whitening muzzle greedy munching away
The horses chomping oats and grasses
Plopping rain drops, soggy walkways
The home built as protection
A fence and doorway a sofa
A rainy rainy night as rocks form a river
A castle braced and built for the mind
Mother nature fights for dominion
My small home and I fight to just abide
Snow as gentle as cotton growing in a field
New and freshly fallen snow
Optically exquisite and clean
Wise as the snowy owl
Flakes of white, six points to a snowflake
Loved and liked by humanity, on a scenic winter day
A sunny day melts the snowflakes
Kind views like a winter postcard
Every pedestrian careful on the walkways
Scenic and serene, God's friendship personified
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
The days of autumn approach,
I walk through God's kingdom,
The towering trees reaching towards the sky,
A maple leaf tree touched by God's rainbow,
Leaves red, yellow and green covering the walkways,
I walk to the lake calm and reflective,
Ducks swimming about,
The sky is blue with a few clouds,
Radiant rays of the sun shinning,
The walk is long and very much appreciated.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
The moon was full
a bright yellow orange chandelier
lighting the walkways through the garden.
It rose slow along the eastern horizon
hours after the sun had set
as it shadowed the brilliant light.
Midnight found it on the cusp
as if noonday had reemerged
and all the world stood quiet in awe.
For a moment
brief as it was
not a sound protruded.
Quick as it rose higher
cloud cover moved in
and it was gone.
upon cold winter
wild winds roar through soaked forest ~
with no leaves to burst
night shrouded in mist
knitted within the thick cloud ~
fire beetles in string
glow of wet candle
flaunt nearby wooded walkways ~
sequel's sights dazzling
Written: September 18, 2022
A Haiku Collection of Three - Nature Themed Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
checked by:https://www.howmanysyllables.com/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They travel without maps—only
the rhythm of the walkways
and coffee stains on edges of napkins.
They carry crumpled metaphors
in their pockets that they
snatched mid-flight from passing trains,
each stanza a temporary shelter.
They trade sonnets for soup
in dimly lit diners, syllables simmering
next to weak broth. Their ink stains
the borrowed pages of the world~
never owning, always belonging.