Short Weary Poems
Short Weary Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Weary by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Weary by length and keyword.
Sailing in a boat,
Ha, surrounded by the ocean,
Thirsting for water!
~"Out of water" contest by Sheri Fresonke Harper
We are the power,
that enlivens body-mind,
yet strangely we prefer trance.
In this lucid dream,
as both subject and object,
all that is, is light of Self.
Nothing debilitates like a sudden spring cold ~~
Taking the bravery right out of your bold!
written April 26, 2022
Weary
on
the
face,
though
strong
in
the
heart,
awoke
by
the
noise
of
the
rich,
though
poor
but
happy
at
heart
Discerning what is true
I turn to you
Prince of Peace
My sweet release.
Once callous to your voice
I've made my choice
I've found your grace
Reviving my desolate face.
Form:
Footsore and Weary
We travel these endless roads
On a journey
To our final destination,
Where they lead, God only knows.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly 2018.
Leg weary and tired
Feeling nearly expired
I shuffle on and on
Just wanting the miles to be gone
Home in the distance now
The hurt will disappear no wondering how
© Paul Warren Poetry
Weary
I am weary.
But….
A drink
from your smile
waters my soul,
touches my spirit.
Your breezy way
cools my brow.
Sharing your thoughts
and heart.
I give silent thanks.
2009
Oh weary grows my heart, my heart of fickle dames
who troth eternal love, yet o'er night die the flames.
A year not even shined upon our ever vows
uncouth became to you, strange and foreign am now.
O, weary traveler, tossed ashore by fate
Despair not, though long has been the wait
Finding yourself hurled back to the very start
Wisdom is simply nevermore to depart
"A weary world
Rejoices..for yonder
Breaks a new and
Glorious morn.."
Joy arises
With the sun..
Unexplained
Unpredictably..
Appearing as
The seeming
Persistent
Weariness...
Into this moment a tear
Of hope float
Upon my brow the tear
Settle
When the evening sun appear
My soul get’s weary
And retreat’s to the enchanted
Garden of love
With red tulips at my feet..
The weary contemplation
Of worldly affairs
Within the sacred precincts
Of the mosque where thought
Becomes prayer
And speech wisdom
Memories of the blazing sun
In the cooling shades
Of the oasis.
The night grows weary
and so do I
It seems not to matter
how hard I try
The river's run dry
Its waters need to replenish...
As I fade in to their steam
May they grant my last wish
Thou, Minos, know I’m weary of all things,
Of wars and deaths and cabbages and kings.
I wield that battered shield that is the sky,
And with my strength protect what ‘neath doth lie:
But what when Earth itself would wish to die?
Wolves baying at old
Mother Moon as she sits in
Obsidian sky;
Night slipped unnoticed;
Across the land, waking her;
Assigned her to work.
She and Sun will not
Be able to retire;
They will work till death.
Wolves baying at old
Mother Moon as she sits in
Obsidian sky;
Night slipped unnoticed;
Across the land, waking her;
And put her to work.
She and Sun will not
Be able to retire;
They will work till death.
Though the journey is lonely,
Our love will stay strong.
My heart yearns for you only,
When the nights are so long.
This hard road makes one weary,
Reaching you will take time.
Yet with hope I see clearly,
Because forever you are mine.
Arrived alive
departed dead
and the same
may be said
of all who tread
this weary world
of ours
less a milestone
more a speed bump
each Birthday
I perceive
and poetry
is but one way to fill
the waning hours for me
Fed up with the way this road is going
Fed up with not being able to accomplish something
Tired of constantly waiting it turned into constipation
someone hand me something to end
what subconscious started
that I consciously have no memory of
Form:
When the storms surround me
And the floods come down
I close my eyes
Don’t let me drown
When the fire is intense
And there is no way out
I close my eyes
I just want to shout
When I am tested
And I grow weary
I close my eyes
You are near me
Death and destruction.
All men stand alone.
Money is moral.
Our hearts are cold and
Love is forgotten.
My mother's love
Father's blessing
A child's laughter.
A sense of peace.
Where is hope.
What I see?
Selfishness.
Death, and
Chaos.
Why.
Whencesoever it comes, thence whithersoever it goes
This never-ending road, Oh, why no one seems to care or know?
So, I pitch my camp by the road-side and quietly repose!
~For a Brian Strand contest
~12/28/12
~"Sijo" contest by Rick Parise.
Watch time hurry by
Brief without goodbyes
Leaving with sad sighs
Watch weary world grief
When good days seem brief
Stealing like a thief
Watch dreary plots here
Wither with lost cheer
Dust strangling fear near
Leon Enriquez
07 May 2016
Singapore
Weariness seeping deep
Muscles tight stressed
Silently not a peep
Exhausted, issues not addressed
Hopelessness at a steady creep
So far with life I'm not impressed
What I sowed I did not reap
Holds me down, under distress
Faith I can not keep
My world my life is quite a mess